The Found Note
by FatesMistake
Summary: Harry gets detention, and finds a note tucked into one of the old essays. As usual, his curiosity gets the better of him, and gets him into trouble. Can he cope in his new role as Probationary Instructor of DADA? And what's he going to do when he starts to realize he's not as straight as everyone assumed, and this ticks off his best friend? SSHP Rated M for attempted sexual abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Harry couldn't believe he'd gotten a detention…with McGonagall. If it had been Snape or Filch he would've outwardly been upset but accepted deep down that, yeah, he probably should learn to hold his tongue or just hide. He wasn't even entirely sure how he'd gotten this detention. One minute he was talking with Ron about Albus' newly trimmed beard, and the next he was being hauled off by sharp digits attached firmly to the shell of his ear. The smirk on Malfoy's face suggested he at least knew, but considering the call for a truce following Voldemort's defeat in Fifth Year (thank Merlin Dumbledore had taken the time to teach him Occlumency) it was unlikely the boy would be the cause of such a horrible prank that it landed Harry in trouble with McGonagall. The stern Deputy Headmistress almost never watched over her own detentions, enjoying it more to pass the squealing adolescents into Filch's disturbing, claw-like fingers. Letting out a sigh of deep suffering, the young wizard looked over his shoulder at the cat animagus sitting at her desk, grading papers.

"Professor, I still don't understand what I did to earn this detention, and I've been cleaning this storage closet for hours," He told her, doing his best to keep the whine out of his voice.

The older witch glared at him. "Mister Potter, do you mean to tell me that you get into so much mischief you can't even remember who you've affected?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, ma'am, what I'm saying is I haven't _done_ anything to warrant a detention…this year," He clarified when she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

McGonagall rubbed the bridge of her nose, her glasses sitting atop her bun. "Potter, how exactly can you classify altering the spell on the roof of the Great Hall to dump piles of snow on any faculty member who enters as 'not warranting a detention'? You practically signed your name, considering your distinct laugh magically echoes around the room every time it happens!"

Harry scowled. "Blaise - I knew he'd get me back in the meanest way possible…"He murmured. "Professor, you have to believe me, it wasn't my doing. It's Blaise Zabini, he's getting back at me for refusing to help him get a date with Neville."

"Potter, that is enough. Do not blame a Slytherin for what is clearly your prank gone amiss. Mister Zabini and Mister Longbottom have been seeing each other for a month now, and will be introducing one another to their respective parents over the Holidays in a couple of months," McGonagall preached.

"That's because I finally convinced the prat to apologize for insulting Neville's love of Herbology back in fourth year! He's been trying to get into Nev's pants since last term!" Harry cried indignantly.

"Mister Potter! Vulgar language will not get you out of this detention! Now, I've heard enough from you, you are to finish cleaning that storage closet by dinner, or you'll be in here tomorrow doing the exact same thing, am I understood?" The Transfigurations professor demanded pursing her lips so tightly they turned white.

Harry huffed and turned back to the massive storage space. It wasn't large by the castle's standards, but it was larger than his old cupboard…closer to the size of his small bedroom, in fact. He wasn't entirely sure why a classroom would need such a large space, particularly a magical classroom, and so far his cleaning had revealed little, despite now being nearly finished. He'd found the oddest assortment of things. It appeared as though McGonagall had kept all of the perfectly transfigured inanimate objects from every class since her first year teaching (the needles had taken an hour on their own, because she'd wanted them sorted by size), the toys you occasionally saw in the cages of the animals seemed to have been bought in bulk – if the numerous boxes brimming over with them were any indication – and there was every paper imaginable: from Gryffindor permission slips, to prewritten notes of excuse, to old student essays. The woman was a bleeding hoarder!

After another twenty minutes of shuffling papers into their respective cubbyholes along the back wall, Harry turned to his professor once more. "All I have left are these old student essays, but there are no more cubbyholes or cabinet drawers, Professor."

"I will assume they are all still tightly bound scrolls…those are the unnecessary Seventh year essays from the students who passed my Final…there's always a few overachievers or confused students who ignore or don't understand that an Exceeds Expectations means they don't have to turn in an essay. Or, like your mother, the ones who panicked and wrote the essay before they got their results and turned the essay in 'just in case'. Stack them in the back right corner in a pyramid style, there should be a shallow in-set platform to help, and then you may go. I don't want to catch you involved in any further antics such as this incident, Mister Potter. Believe me when I say that if you do something like this again, I will let Peeves loose in that cupboard before I bring you to clean it up again, understood?"

Harry smiled in relief. "Yes, Professor, I don't doubt you in the least. Nothing like this will happen again, I promise." He turned yet again to the room and pushed all of the aged parchment scrolls towards the indicated corner, where a long platform did indeed stand in wait for them.

After a few minutes he came across the aforementioned essay his mum had turned in. He only _just_ resisted the urge to open it, nestling it neatly between the other essays on the fourth tier. He also came across Remus' essay, in the middle of the sixth tier, chuckling when he imagined the werewolf as being the same panicky type his mother had been, probably sitting huddled in the same corner of the library. On the second to last tier, he found a name he didn't expect – Severus Snape. Sure, the man was smart, but Harry had trouble imagining the Potion's Professor would ever panic or misunderstand instruction. Then again, knowing his Father hadn't laid off even in their last year from the stories Sirius still got too much enjoyment from (Harry got nauseous just thinking about some of the things the Marauders did to the Head of Slytherin), it wouldn't have surprised Harry if Snape had turned in the essay in case James or Sirius messed with his Final.

He made to lay the rolled parchment on the small pyramid, when a note fell out and fluttered to the floor beside his knee. Harry glanced at it, and, his curiosity getting the better of him, stuffed it into his robes pocket to read later. Most likely, it had been a note with a mild sticking charm that had worn thin with age, no counter used to detach it from the unread essay for too many years; a note incriminating his father, perhaps, or explaining why the essay had been turned in despite the good grade. Either way, Harry hoped it might shed some light on the dour and aloof older wizard he'd been trying desperately to get to know. He finished the rest of the task quickly, practically throwing the last scrolls onto the parchment pyramid, and wished his Professor a good rest of the day before making a hurried retreat to the nearest abandoned classroom to read his find.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat on the top of a desk near to the front of the class and pulled the small, sparsely rolled parchment out of his pocket. He studied it carefully. This would be yet another breach of the man's privacy, he knew, but he thought it might be worth it. In any case, McGonagall could never miss it, never knowing it existed in the first place, and what were the chances Snape would remember whatever he'd written on it? It was practically a scrap, only a few inches.

"It's probably not even something important, just some notes on the essay that he forgot to detach or something…" Harry excused lamely to the empty room. Gathering his courage with a deep breath, he unrolled the parchment. The breath he'd taken a moment before escaped him in a great _whoosh_ , like a punch to the stomach, as he read the short note the young Snape had left in his end-of-year Transfiguration essay. He had been very, very wrong. It wasn't notes, it was definitely important, and absolutely something Snape wouldn't forget having written. "Merlin's beard …" Harry breathed, a small tear escaping down his cheek as he imagined the desperation his Potions Professor must have been feeling when he wrote this note…his suicide note.

 _Professor McGonagall,_

 _I have no one else I can leave this to but you. You have always treated me fairly, despite my status as a Slytherin and I want you to know that I have appreciated it in my years at Hogwarts. Out of a need to feel accepted by my peers I have taken the Dark Mark this last term. I allowed myself to be swayed by petty words and empty promises, thinking I would be an honored member of an honorable society. I was wrong, Professor, so very wrong. Last night the Seventh Year initiates were taken to observe our welcome into the Death Eaters as adults. The things we were forced to watch were so horrendous I dare not put them here. We learned that we are going to be expected to do terrible things to women, to children, to innocent men. My attempts to get an audience with Dumbledore have failed and I can think of no way out of this terrible fate I have resigned myself to. After I get off the train at King's Cross I am going to find a motel and kill myself. Thank you, Professor McGonagall, for being my mentor. You lifted me out of a dark place, and I'm sorry I allowed myself to be lured into an even darker pit. You'll always be my teacher and friend._

 _Sincerely,_

 _S. Snape_

Harry's breath came in short gasps as he reread the note for the fifth time. How could Dumbledore ignore such a cry for help as this? How could his own father have tormented as tender a soul as Snape's? But no, this wasn't Snape. This was the part of him the man had hidden away from the world; this was Severus, the man who'd only wanted to fit in somewhere so much he'd sold his soul for a life he couldn't have known would cause him and others so much pain. As Harry sat staring at the words blurred by his own tears, his mind was fighting a battle with his heart. The one demanded he throw the parchment in the nearest burning fire and pretend he never saw it, while the other wanted nothing more than to run down to the dungeons and hug the Bat who resided there until they both felt better.

This idea gave Harry pause. Snape was still alive; he was probably tormenting students this very moment, in fact. Why? What had changed his mind between the last day of classes and the arrival at King's Cross? That one question forced a compromise between his head and his heart, making the decision for him. He had to know what had stopped this sad, lonely child from taking his own life and instead becoming a cruel, distant adult who pushed everyone away. Decision made, the Boy Who Lived grabbed his bag and rushed out of the room, wiping away the lingering tears. Six secret passages later, he found himself staring at the dark wooden door of his Professor's dungeon office. He could do this, he could…he knocked swiftly on the door, and, receiving no immediate reply, nearly bolted on the spot.

"Enter," Came the typical response just as Harry decided to leave.

The Gryffindor steeled himself and opened the door. "Er, Professor Snape," He stammered, poking his head into the room. "I was wondering if I could, um, have a moment of your time?"

"Make it fast, Potter, I don't have time to waste on your usual useless ramblings. Ask your question and get out, I want to finish my grading before dinner," Snape growled. "And don't linger in my door like a buffoon!"

Harry scurried into the dimly lit office, closing the door behind him. Snape stared at him expectantly when he'd turned around. "Right, er, well, you see, sir, I was wondering if you could tell me…that is, if you would mind terribly…I mean, could I possibly ask…"

"Spit it out, Potter!" Snape demanded angrily, losing his patience.

"Would you help with the DA?" Harry asked in a rush of breath. His brain was screaming at him, and he wasn't entirely sure where the thought had come from.

"Excuse me?" Snape sneered, glaring at Harry.

Harry drew a deep breath. He still didn't know where the thought had manifested, but it seemed safer than asking about the note. And he'd actually considered this, fancifully, over the summer. "Well, you see, sir, our Defense Professor this year isn't…well, she's not good. All she knows is theory, she's never even met a Dark creature, and her spell casting is right up there with Lockhart's skill. Since I've made friends with a few Slytherins, and the younger years don't all think I'm a nutter this year, I'm banking on the DA being a lot bigger if I were to start it up, and I'm going to need helping planning the meetings around class schedules. I thought that, perhaps if I spoke to you, who knows a bloody lot about the subject, it might help me figure out about how long individual spells would take to learn for the different groups. Plus, having a professor there who knows what they're doing might coax some of the more worrisome students into joining."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And you think that _my_ presence in particular will set the students at ease?"

Harry swallowed thickly. This was the part he'd thought up over the Holiday, the one that had made him give up the idea as stupid: a compromise. "Well, there'd be conditions, sir. You couldn't give out points, and you could only deduct points or give detentions if the situation absolutely called for it beyond a doubt, which, as the leaders of the group, Hermione and I would have to agree to. They aren't taxing stipulations, and if you didn't want to attend the meetings I'd understand, but I could still most definitely use your expertise in the planning of the lessons," He said in the calmest, most business-like tone he could muster. His heart was thudding rapidly against his rib-cage and the lump in his throat was making his head spin.

"I see," Snape hummed thoughtfully. "And what would I get in return for helping in this little venture of yours?"

"Er…In the case of your helping me plan lessons, I could give you two hours once a week, for whatever odd jobs you need done, such as cleaning cauldrons or preparing ingredients. In the case that you'd assist in the lessons as well, I could pay you, if that's what you want, since I'm technically asking you to tutor at least half the school in a subject outside of your own," Harry offered hopefully. He couldn't believe that Snape actually seemed to be considering this.

Snape studied him quietly for a long while before he finally responded. "Make it two hours twice a week and a galleon once a month and I'll do this for you and your little study group, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to agree, but stopped himself short. He sensed Slytherin espionage. "I'll agree to your terms, but you only get the galleon if you attend the lessons. And I can move one of those two-hour odd job sessions to a separate day, or week if need be, so they won't interfere with my studies," He said evenly. "Also, you can't have me spend money on the odd jobs without reimbursement within the month, nor can you have me do something that will get me into trouble."

The Potions Master opened his mouth, but Harry stopped him.

"One more thing, sir. I'll allow that I'm your subordinate during regular school hours, and even during my work sessions, but when we are planning lessons and executing them, I am neither your student nor you my teacher, we will behave as colleagues and equals in this time, or no deal. And you can't do this half-assed. If I have a question outside of scheduled planning sessions, I will respect you and wait until you are not busy obviously, but you have to respect my intelligence and listen when I come to you with an idea. I don't want to accidentally teach some First Years a dangerous spell just because I couldn't talk to you before the lesson. Are we agreed?"

Snape seemed to mull over the added stipulations, and finally nodded. "You have a deal, Potter; and my respect for not agreeing to my terms too lightly. Do you wish to bind this verbal contract magically?"

Harry stepped forward warily as the man stood and rounded the desk. "What'll happen if one of us breaks the contract?"

"If we lay down no due consequence, then whoever breaks the contract will have the word 'cheat' written across their forehead for a week. Would you prefer to lay down a more dire consequence?" Snape explained idly.

Harry shook his head. "No, but I think we should add that, if you break the contract, any money tendered for your service is returned to my vault, and if I break it then you can have an entire week of odd job hours with no reimbursement clause for a collective expense under 14 galleons, doubling what you would have been paid in the contract. Seem fair?"

Snape nodded. "It is acceptable. Which is your wand arm?" Harry held out his right arm. "By shaking our wand hands, we will seal the contract previously agreed upon, and any consequences upon the breaking of this contract." Snape reached out his own right arm and Harry firmly grasped the long, slim fingers. A soft glow emitted from their clasped hands, the same color blue as the Ministry's seal, signifying that their verbal exchange was now legally binding.

Harry withdrew his hand when the light had finally receded a few seconds later. "Well, that was simpler than Fred made it sound. The way he described the different magical contracts when we discussed them this last summer, he made it sound like every single one of them took half your soul and a pint of your blood on top," He said with a nervous chuckle.

Snape grunted. "Likely an attempt to scare you away from making one. They are not things that should be entered into lightly, especially if you don't know and/or trust the other contract member. It can be terribly dangerous if your fellow contractor has a quick mind and silver tongue."

Harry winced as he saw Snape unconsciously brush the inside of his left forearm, where there had once been a horrific tattoo of enslavement. "Yeah, I can imagine. Glad I can trust that, should you take advantage of something I missed, you wouldn't do it just to ruin me, you'd at least do it to teach me a lesson. Plus you're an honorable man so…"

Snape smirked at him. "So confident in the Greasy Bat of the dungeons?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, haven't seen anything to prove otherwise. Besides, Dumbledore _and_ McGonagall would have your head in a minute if they thought you'd cheated me too badly, contract or no." He chuckled as Snape failed to hide a shudder at the thought. "What now?"

"We go to dinner before the Headmaster comes looking for us, and then I'll return to the stack of Second Year essays I failed to get graded during your interruption," Snape said, sneering at the pile of scrolls on his desk.

Harry wrinkled his nose at the good-sized pile. "Yeah, sorry about that. What say I help you after dinner, since it's my fault? Not counting towards my hours, of course. It'd give us a chance to find a time to schedule the first planning session as well." The older wizard studied him curiously before he nodded and led the way out of his office towards the Great Hall.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry sunk onto the bench next to Ron with a sigh. He immediately filled his plate with every meat and vegetable within reach. He'd been peckish after cleaning the storage closet, and by the time he'd run down to Snape's office his stomach had started growling hungrily. His nervousness had forced it aside, but the smells of the food had brought it back with a vengeance.

"Harry, why did you and Snape walk in together? I thought you were doing a detention with McGonagall?" Hermione asked as Harry made a small volcano on his plate with mashed potatoes and gravy.

"I did, I finished a while ago. Afterwards I went to try and talk to Snape about assisting me with the DA. Since Professor Pratt is about as useful as a bucket of water on a blazing forest fire, I thought the whole school might benefit from our renamed 'Defense Acquisition' club, and Snape's expertise will be invaluable in the lesson planning and practical lessons. Pratt covers all the theory, but we need someone who can actually cast the spells," Harry told her. He began to eat, stopping himself from simply digging in like his stomach demanded. He knew Ron and Hermione would want more details, and he abhorred talking with his mouth full after years of watching Dudley and Ron do it.

"Er, 'Arry, won't Snape being there keep a lot of the students from joining?" Ron asked, chewing as he spoke.

Harry grimaced, but shook his head in response. "The presence of a Professor will make it safer, so we'll even get the worry-warts, and we sealed a verbal contract declaring he couldn't give points, and he could only take points or assign detentions if Hermione and I agreed that it was necessary."

Hermione moaned. "Oh, Harry, tell me you didn't enter into a magical contract without thinking!" She squeaked.

Harry glared at her and swallowed his bite of steak. "No, but thanks for the vote of confidence, 'Mione. I'm not a complete bonehead." At the look of disbelief and horror on his friends' faces, he gave them, verbatim, the outline of the contract and the consequences of breaking it. "See? Not a problem. Either we both benefit, or one of us loses something substantial."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Yeah, but, Harry, if you're equals during the planning and lessons, then Snape can treat you like an adult, which means he can attack you or poison you without the consequence of doing so to a student!"

Harry rolled his eyes with a huff of annoyance. "He's not going to poison me, and if he attacks me then I'll fight back. I won't have to worry about being expelled. That does give me an idea though; there are a lot of spells to help defend against dangerous poisons, and even a minor curb to Veritaserum. Maybe we should do some lessons about other facets of magic that can help defend as well. I mean, animagi practically have a get out of jail free card, literally in Siri's case, and there are a couple charms that can help distract Dark creatures if you aren't strong enough to fight them off. I'll mention it to Snape when I go down after dinner."

"You're going back down there?!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, yeah, we have to find a time to plan the first lesson. That reminds me, Ron, I need you to talk to the old DA members before curfew, tell the ones from other Houses to bring up the DA to their respective Houses, and 'Mione, I need you to talk to Draco about it. Be sure to say Snape can't give detentions or take points unless the both of us agree. Ron, that goes double for your group. Can you handle that for me guys? I'm not gonna have much time for recruiting like that, I have to start research tomorrow for our first lesson plan. I'm hoping to introduce some helpful things we don't learn in classes," Harry said imploringly, giving them his best 'lost puppy' look.

"Sure, Harry, we can do that. But…you know you're nutters, right? I mean what were you thinking, volunteering to spend so much time with Snape?" Ron demanded.

Harry shrugged. "Like I said, his help will be invaluable. He got grades good enough to master in any subject, guys, Dumbledore said so. He chose Potions because he wanted to. Now, can I eat? If I don't leave when Snape does, he'll no doubt assume I bailed on him, and I'm starving."

His friends nodded and left him to eat and think about the lesson ideas he'd already come up with, making him wish he had class hours to teach what he could to his peers. Dumbledore had joked during tea a few weeks back that Harry might be the cure for the curse on the DADA position, and Harry was starting to think it was worth the attempt. Maybe Snape could help him decide, McGonagall was too supportive to offer real career advice for him. With these thoughts roiling in his head, Harry completely forgot about the suicide note from years past sitting like a stone in his bag's hidden pocket.

SSHP

Harry sighed as he walked into Gryffindor Common Room just as the clock struck the 11'o'clock curfew.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked from the cushioned chair by the fire.

Harry grunted and slumped into the couch, dragging his bag up to rest beside him. "Second Years need to learn the meaning of the word research. Other than that, I think it went well. Snape was supportive of my ideas about introducing other forms of defense besides defensive spells, and even recommended some books I could look through to help find what I think is necessary, as well as some potions he knows can be used in a defense situation against wizards or Dark creatures. He was a bit wary of my animagus idea, but when I suggested we confer with McGonagall and let her decide whom she thinks is responsible enough, and has high enough grades, to test for animagus ability, he got on board pretty fast. We'll let her cast the spell to reveal our animals, since she can cast it silently and we won't have to worry about the incantation spreading through the school. You can bet that people like Ron and Seamus won't be happy about that, but it's the safest path to take. Plus, any who get picked have to sign a statement that if they master the change before they leave Hogwarts they'll register immediately at the Ministry. Where's Ron?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Out with Lavender. Her dad sent her some kind of liquor for her birthday and since I was made Head Girl he doesn't think I'll give them detention."

Harry frowned. "He shouldn't behave so irresponsibly, now that we're Seventh Years and adults in the eyes of the law. I wouldn't let him get away with it, if I were you. You should see where they're hiding out on the Marauder's Map and send an anonymous note to one of the stricter teachers."

"I already did. Professor Vector should find them in about twenty minutes, when they're good and drunk," The know-it-all said, smiling proudly.

Harry smirked at his friend. "There's the Slytherin in Gryffindor clothing that I know and love. How'd the recruiting go?"

Hermione dog-eared the page in her book and closed it, leaning forward excitedly. "I think it went really well, Harry. There were a few Slytherins around when I talked to Draco, and they seemed to love the idea. Plus, on my way back up to the Tower I walked past several groups from different Houses and Years talking about how great it'd be to join up. You and Snape better plan the first lesson soon, it's already in high demand."

Harry grinned tiredly. "We're gonna start the planning on Sunday, day after tomorrow, as well as my first two hour job for the week. Tomorrow, if you and Ron could, I'd like you to get as many sign-ups as possible. Or rather, you and someone else, since he'll have detention. That'll give me and Snape a rough start for how to plan the lessons and when."

Hermione nodded. "Sure, Harry, not a problem. I'll set up each of the Old DA with sheets on each floor and amidst high traffic areas. We'll probably get a lot of our members tomorrow anyway, when the excitement is fresh. Now off to bed with you, you know it worries Dobby when you fall asleep in the common room, and you look dead tired."

Harry nodded sleepily and got up, waving a tired goodnight to his friend. He dragged his bag up the stairs to the boys' dorm, too tired to lift it, and collapsed on his bed with a soft grunt. In minutes he was asleep, still dressed.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're being difficult, Snape. We've already got sign-ups from the majority of the school and that creates enough of a time crunch. I don't see why we should dedicate an entire lesson for the Fourth Years to learn defensive potions," Harry growled in irritation. "I don't care if most of them are struggling in your class, this isn't a Potions club. The smart thing to do is to cover the properties of the potions for _all_ of the years and then cover basic spells that can mimic the effect and how to use _both_ effectively in situations that might present themselves. You know I'm right."

Snape rubbed his temples aggravatedly. "Fine, Potter, have it your way. Never mind that the lesson will be utterly _useless_ if your students can't brew the bloody potion!" He snarled.

Harry huffed. "Then we can compromise. We'll make the first lesson a double lesson, having two lessons in the first week, that way we can cover the properties and spells first, then how to brew the damn things in the second lesson. But I won't have you bullying everyone like you do in class, pick your top students that are also members and I'll have them patrol the lessons for their year. You can't step in unless you see someone about to screw up royally, and you're to stand away from the lesson against the wall. We're more likely to have exploded cauldrons than real results if you're glaring over the students' shoulders like a bloody hawk."

"I do not glare like a hawk, Potter." The Potions Master snapped.

"You do and you know it, Snape. You work to make sure every student is trembling in their boots, wondering just when you'll circle down and devour them. Now, will you agree to the dual first lesson for the Fourth and Fifth Years?" Harry demanded.

Snape smirked at him. "Alright, I agree on the condition that you explain just how I make students feel 'devoured'. Have I devoured you, Potter?"

Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes. He _had_ to be tired because there was no way Snape had _purred_ when he said that. They had been at this for hours, and this was the second time he'd suggested the two lessons. "Have you ever actually listened to yourself when you talk? You're bloody cruel, Snape. If a First Year Muggleborn slices an _unimportant_ ingredient unevenly, you give them such a stripping down that most of them probably run out at the end of class to change their soiled pants. I realize that ingredients aren't cheap, and that as lessons advance the preparation is increasingly important, but it's not like you offer lessons to help the ones who weren't raised with the latest Potions Kit for Kids. We have to figure it out on our own and most of us have no basis with which to practice. The books aren't exactly detail-heavy. Hell, 'Mione would've struggled if her parents hadn't put her through those cooking classes from age 6 to 10! You're a right bastard in your classes and are quick to blame us for the supposed failings of our upbringing. Satisfied?"

Snape frowned. "Perhaps you're right, Potter. I have taken for granted the cross-year relationships of my first few years teaching. The older years used to help the younger years if they were struggling in any class."

Harry leaned back in the chair he'd scooted up to the side of Snape's desk, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, by the time I arrived we got told to bugger off if we even asked after the time, never mind getting help with our lessons. But you have to take into account that when a previous year struggles in a subject, the next year has to suffer the increased number and length of those essays. That's why I think that before we start any of these DA lessons we should give a small test before a different subject is broached, that way we can weed out the ones who'll need more help and not spend more time than necessary on any group in particular."

Snape growled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That would be a far simpler endeavor if we could do a twice-weekly session for all of the lessons, but as it is we're already going to have trouble finding the time to teach your students anything beyond basic wand-waving."

"So why don't you have the semi-weekly lessons?" An annoyingly cheerful voice interrupted. Both men looked to the door to see the Headmaster.

Harry scoffed. "One word: homework. Headmaster, the current level of Defense homework alone is enough to take up an entire Saturday, since Professor Pratt concentrates so much on theory. With all of the other classes the student's have, that only leaves a small window most weeks for DA, because I'm not cruel enough to demand every waking moment my peers have to offer, though I'm sure a solid portion would still attend if I did. The fact is, as a club, the DA has to work around classes, homework, _and_ other clubs, plus Quidditch, both practices and games. There just aren't enough hours in the day, Professor Dumbledore." Harry said, laying his head on the desk in defeat.

The wily old wizard grinned, the twinkle in his eye sparkling brightly. "What if you had class hours?"

Snape sneered. "It would solve the issue, but like Potter said, there aren't enough hours in the day, nor could we get the Board to agree to a single year class, especially a _second_ of an existing class. We might be able to schedule during break hours, but that would cut half of the sign-ups out because they either have breaks at different times or none at all, and then you have to consider my teaching schedule. We have talked this subject into the ground, Albus. Without a miracle, we're stuck with Monday and Wednesday afternoons for the different Years, who already have to be clumped together despite not dividing the Houses, and the rare Saturday night additional lesson." He snapped.

The smile didn't falter in the least. "Then I come bearing dire news and your miracle. Harry, I'm afraid Priscilla Pratt was most displeased when she learned of your club, seemed to think it an affront to her teaching method."

Harry snorted. "What teaching method?" He muttered, making Snape smirk.

The Headmaster nodded sagely. "Indeed. Well, she demanded I disband your club-"

"What?!" Harry shouted angrily, jumping to his feet.

Dumbledore raised a hand calmingly. "I resolutely refused her request, because under the circumstances the DA is more than fair. Unfortunately, when she saw I would not be swayed, Miss Pratt handed me her resignation. We are only two months into the school year and already you have chased away my DADA professor, Mister Potter. As all of the other candidates already have employment elsewhere, I had to find someone competent enough to handle the job before the Ministry stepped in as they did in your Fifth Year. It didn't take more than a moment for me to recommend you and Severus to the Board of Governors, and they were happy to accept such experienced candidates. Mister Potter, if you would like to take the job, with Severus to oversee in the exact same capacity as he would for your lessons, you would have to drop a class so that you could concentrate on teaching and grading. This would be a sort of probationary period, in fact. If you enjoy the post – and survive the year with passing NEWTs – then you could take the post full-time next year. Severus, if you accept as well, then your Tuesday and Thursday afternoon classes would be moved to your free periods on Monday and Friday morning, and your Wednesday morning classes would be moved to the afternoon to free up those periods for Mister Potter's lessons."

Harry looked at the Potions Master imploringly, and the man nodded. "If Mister Potter agrees, then this is acceptable to me. We have already discussed his desire to apply for the post next year, but ultimately, the choice is his to make."

The Headmaster looked at Harry with a slight sternness in his sparkle. "Keep in mind, Harry, you will meet some opposition from your peers. In every class besides Defense you would still be a student, and they will be wary of you because you have a teacher's status. Outside of classes you will be viewed by the school as a teacher, excluding a seat at the Head Table."

Harry smiled. "Opposition is my way of life, Headmaster, and while I'm sure it'll be awkward the first few weeks as a teacher, after Christmas Break everyone would come back with the idea firmly planted in his or her head. With the Seventh Years, however, I'd recommend you have someone else teach those, with me as the assistant or something. I've gone to school with them since First Year, and there's no way they'd adjust to the idea of me being their full-on teacher. As for dropping a class, I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind if I dropped Care of Magical Creatures, since I'll be working closely with him for my own lessons."

Dumbledore nodded. "A fine idea, Harry. However, all of the rules of being a teacher would apply. That means you would have to forget any romantic feelings you may have towards a fellow student until they've graduated. If you're alright with that, then I will make the necessary arrangements."

"You're joking?" Harry scoffed. "Have you met my peers? Great friends, fantastic allies, most of them pretty smart – Every single one of them act their age. After having Tom in my head for a year, the things I've seen…there's no way someone my age would understand that. You don't have to worry about romantic feelings towards any of the students from me. Please, Headmaster, I really want this."

"If you're sure, Harry, I will go and start the preparations. Come to my office some time this week so I can give you a briefing of sorts on how your life will change at Hogwarts. The Board would like a preliminary lesson plan on Tuesday morning, and I'll cancel this week's Defense classes so that next weekend you can go to the ministry for the Teaching Exam. Here are Miss Pratt's lesson plans, so you know what's been covered." He winked, placing the scroll on the desk before disappearing from the office.

Harry grinned and turned to Snape, who was frowning slightly. "What?" Harry asked, frowning as well.

"You do realize that you are now going to be stuck in here with me for the remainder of the day and very possibly well into the night, so we can plan your lessons for the entire school year, don't you?"

Harry grimaced. "Shit, sorry. At least I got my hours done first. I'm sure you had better things to do than sit here with me your entire Sunday. I can probably get a good first draft done on my own if you have other things you wanted to do. Oh, geez, and with my classes you won't have any breaks during the week before Friday afternoons."

Snape turned back to the list of ideas they'd worked out for the DA meetings. "Relax, Potter, I had already resigned myself to a fate similar to this. At least now we can concentrate purely on the lessons, rather than the ridiculous timetable jumping we had planned, and you'll be able to introduce lessons beyond basic defense. What do you think of adding some preliminary lessons about spells to ward off dangerous plants? Sprout is always chattering on about how so few people can defend against things like Devil's Snare, and since she only touches on the subject herself, it might be good to give some instruction and demonstration. Perhaps even participation for the Fifth years, since dangerous plants and the defense against them is one of the choices for the Defense Essay in the OWLs."

Harry leaned to look over the list they already had and immediately the two fell into a deep conversation about what different subjects _needed_ to be covered versus what Harry saw as necessary for daily survival or overall well-roundedness.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're going to be a teacher?!" Hermione squealed excitedly.

Harry chuckled, grinning like a loon. "Yeah, with Snape's help. And, you can't tell anyone because it's going to be a surprise, but together we convinced some of the other Professors to help us host a couple of mandatory Saturday classes for the First and Second Years so we can cover how each of the different branches of magic overlap. It'll be open to the older years as well, and curiosity should get us at least a few of them. Also, I'm going to speak with Lucius Malfoy about investing in Snape's ingredient stores, so that way students can go practice ingredient preparation with proper instruction. There's no way he'd disagree, because so many of his investments are in Apothecaries and Potions Companies. Helping the younger generation can only be a boon to his investments."

"That's brilliant, Harry, I'm so proud of you!" Hermione said, throwing herself into him in a tight hug.

"Yeah, real great. I'm out of here," Ron groused, getting up.

Harry looked at the redhead in confusion. "What the hell, Ron, I thought you'd be happy for me."

The youngest Weasley male glared. "Oh yeah, so happy, Potter. You're getting special treatment again, yet another thing to set you on a bleeding pedestal above all of us mere mortals." He hissed.

Harry frowned. "Ron, what are you- I'm not the first student to be given a class. McGonagall was student-teaching from Sixth year, and there have been dozens of Seventh years that've been given posts, after taking their NEWTs early, in the seven centuries since Hogwarts was founded. Most Wizarding schools have programs for exactly this purpose."

Ron scoffed. "Whatever." He walked away from where they sat by the lake, scowling deeply.

Harry looked at Hermione who shrugged. Ginny came over and sat beside them, leaning against the tree. "Ignore him, Harry, he's just pissed because he'd been hoping to teach when he didn't get into NEWT Potions for the Auror program, but McGonagall told him over the Summer that his grades just aren't good enough to recommend him to any post."

"How are _his_ bad grades _my_ fault? It's not like I willfully sought out this opportunity, it just fell into my lap," Harry said, frowning further.

Ginny shrugged. "He's a prat, don't worry about it. This is going to be so great! With you teaching us I might actually pass my NEWTs next year, and I know a bunch of the girls are going to flip. I'm sure Malfoy is doing the world's best impression of a Green Dragon, especially if you're going to his dad with investment opportunities." She snickered.

Harry chuckled, knowing Ginny would keep whatever else she'd heard to herself. "Actually, Draco was one of the first people not in our House to offer me congratulations after Albus announced it at lunch. His Mum is pregnant, but you didn't hear it from me, and he's real glad that his little brother or sister will have a competent Defense instructor that isn't out to kill, eat, or maim students. In fact, most of the school seems really happy about this. News of the DA spread after Fifth Year, apparently, and they're all looking forward to proper instruction from someone with experience. The last time we had anything similar was Remus, but even he spent a lot more time on Dark creatures than on defense in general. I learned from having him Third Year that I have to be more diverse or risk losing the interest of my students. He kept it interesting on the days he could bring a creature to class, but reading about Dark Creatures and listening to a lecture was really boring."

Hermione and Ginny snickered knowingly.

"I'm glad you at least took something from my classes."

Harry turned with a grin, launching himself at the two people who'd walked up. "Remmy, Sirius! What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore fire-called us with the news and said he had something else to discuss with Remmy, so we thought we'd come and pester our favorite godson if you weren't in class," Sirius explained, returning Harry's hug.

"Do you think Professor Dumbledore will ask Professor Lupin to return to help teach the Seventh Years?" Hermione asked.

Remus smiled. "He already did, and I accepted. But, it was under the condition that, even though Harry will technically be my assistant, Harry will provide the lesson plan. For consistency throughout the years."

Harry's eyes sparkled with glee. "Really! Fantastic, Remus! Not only will I get to work with you, but that means Snape and I didn't waste the two hours we spent making up a plan for my year!"

Sirius grimaced. "Yeah, Albus mentioned that you'd be working closely with Snivellus on this. Rotten luck, Prongslet."

Harry shrugged with a small scowl. "Don't call him that. He's not bad, actually. He's been really great, and he's supportive as long as I don't get carried away. It's good to have him around. He's got the experience of age and life, so I don't have to worry that I'll be putting the students in unnecessary amounts of danger by handing them a spell that could go horribly wrong. I'm _grateful_ he's there, Siri, he's like a safety net with teeth."

"Thank you for that near-insulting vote of confidence, Mister Potter." Snape said coming up to them.

"That's Professor Potter now, Snape," Sirius said with pride, glaring at the Potions Master.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not for another week, Siri, and only for one class. I'm still technically a student, and even after my test this Saturday I won't be moving to the teachers table in the Great Hall, but I will get my own private quarters and have the rights of a teacher."

Sirius huffed at the lost opportunity to gloat over Snape and the Potions Master sighed at the immaturity, turning instead to Remus. "Congratulations on returning to a temporary post, Lupin. Albus says you have graciously agreed to set aside writing full-time to help your godson in his newest undertaking."

Remus nodded. "It's only Seventh Years, and I'll only be doing half the work, so I figured it wouldn't interfere with my novel too much. If you'll excuse us, Harry, we'll see you before dinner, but we promised McGonagall we would stop in for a chat, and it's already almost time for tea. We are very proud of you, cub."

Harry beamed. "Alright, I'll catch up with you guys later. Thanks for taking the position, Remus." The werewolf waved him off and steered Sirius away, who was still fuming. Harry looked up at Snape. "Was there something you needed, Professor?"

Snape nodded firmly. "Indeed, I have arranged that meeting you requested with Lucius Malfoy, and the Headmaster has asked that you join him for tea afterward. I have also been asked to join, so I imagine he'll be wanting to discuss the lesson plans you gave him."

"Alright, thank you, Sir. Are you terribly busy at the moment?" Snape shook his head. "Would you accompany me to speak with Mister Malfoy? I don't want to confuse the numbers we discussed when I ask him for an investment, and your presence might sway him in our favor in any case." Snape nodded and Harry turned to grab his things.

"Harry why are you doing this ingredient prep thing for Snape?" Ginny asked as tactlessly as her brother would have.

Harry looked at her as he stuffed the few books he had taken out back into his bag. "Because I need it just as much for my classes. Defense Potions are fairly advanced on any level, and the ingredient preparation has to be exact or you can expect the potion to backfire pretty spectacularly. If Lucius doesn't agree as an investor, I'll petition the Board of Governor's for more funding, or fund it myself until I can prove that it will have an effect on the world outside of Hogwarts. Besides, Lucius likes it when a young wizard shows spunk and effort, he'll appreciate my pushing him, especially if I show a little manipulation."

Ginny blushed lightly. "Oh…I guess that makes sense. See ya later, Harry. Bye, Professor."

Hermione waved, not looking up from her book. "Bye, _Professors_ ," She joked, chuckling lightly.

Harry waved to them both with a roll of his eyes at his Potions Professor.

"Miss Granger, Miss Weasley," Snape said evenly, nodding to them each in turn. Together, he and Harry made their way back to the castle, Harry drawing him into a conversation about how exactly to approach Malfoy Sr.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry breathed deeply as he walked into Snape's office the following Saturday. "Merlin's beard, I thought the hardest part of that test would be the essay, but I was way off. It was so bloody _long_!" He groaned, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Snape glanced up at him. "Indeed. How did you do?"

The Gryffindor sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. "I feel pretty confident about it, but I won't find out for a few hours. The instructor seemed excited by my results, though."

"Always a good sign, although it's highly possible they were distracted by the fact they were quizzing the Man Who Prevailed," Snape replied, continuing to grade.

Harry grimaced. "Ugh, remind me to squish that little beetle the next time I see her. I can't believe Skeeter came up with yet another name just to draw even more attention to my assignment to the DADA post."

"Potter, why are you down here? Shouldn't you be out celebrating your official appointment as Probationary Instructor by buying half of Hogsmeade?" Snape snapped at him. "Some of us have work."

Harry cracked open an eye. "I've got plans with Nev, Draco, and a few others to meet at the pub for a round of butterbeers later. I came down here because you haven't called me for my second two hour job this week, and I won't be the one to break our contract. I'm still paying you, and you're still helping me, now more than ever, there's no way I'm bowing out."

Snape grunted. "The contract became void when you received the post, Potter. If you still wish to carry out your hours out of some sense of honor or whatever guides you foolish Gryffindors, then I will gladly take the assistance; however, I insist you cease the payments, as I'm already being paid double my salary for assisting in your classes."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I won't pay you. But I still want to help. Better to be here, anyway, than listening to Ron grouse or Hermione whine about it."

Snape used his quill to point to the door off to the side that adjoined to his classroom. "You can start by cleaning up after the First Years' disastrous first ingredient preparation practice. Dispose of the wasted ingredient bits properly; wipe down the tables, etc. Once you're finished with that, you can return here and help me grade their essays."

Harry stood and removed his robe, laying it on the chair he'd been occupying, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Yes, sir. Erm, if we finish the grading early, do you think we could speak about my commissioning you for a couple potions? They're terribly advanced, and while I'm fair at potions, I'm not near Mastery level."

"That would depend on the potions and why you need them. We will discuss it after you have cleaned my classroom," Snape said dismissively.

Harry nodded and left the office. The classroom was a disaster area! His first instinct was to banish everything in sight, but he took a deep breath of determination. Half of the butchered ingredients could be used in basic potions, and Snape would be upset if they were wasted uselessly, and the other half reacted badly to certain cleaning spells when they were in large concentrations like they were here. Immediately, Harry set to organizing jars to hold the less mangled attempts, and a few leak-proof bags to put the rest in to banish when he'd finished. Forty minutes and a severe neck cramp later from scourgifying the ceiling (how did they even manage that?!), he washed the grime from his hands and wrists, then walked back into Snape's office. He flopped into the chair beside the one he'd sat in before and rolled his neck and shoulders until he popped the muscle cramp loose.

"By the Gods, I don't even want to know how they made such a terrible mess," He muttered, scooting forward and pulling some of the proffered essays towards him.

"It is a mystery even beyond me, Mister Potter, and I was in attendance. With luck, they will improve enough by the end of term to have a distinctly diminished mark of their practice," Snape said, scratching his quill in a deliberate 'T' on the paper before him. "Perhaps this will boost interest, as you said when you spoke with Lucius, and I won't have to read so many dismal essays."

Harry smirked, but didn't respond. He'd already heard a few rumors that some of the First Years had taken a shine to Potions, now that they knew what they were getting yelled at for, but he didn't want to jinx it by saying something too soon. They sat together in silence, the only sound the scratching of their quills and the dripping of red ink when they refilled for further remarks on the poorly done essays. After several minutes, Snape spoke again.

"What exactly are you looking to commission my potions skills for, Potter?"

Harry started, having forgotten he'd mentioned it. "Oh, yeah, um…Well, I'd like to get the Adimpleo Restituere Oculus (Completely Restore Eyesight), and the Retexamus Neglectu (Reverse Neglect). I want them in part for my classes, but also because I hate being short and wearing glasses and I won't exactly command authority and respect when my Fourth Years will be towering over me. I know they take awhile to brew, and I could probably order them from one of the many different companies for a discount because of my status, but I'd rather get them from someone I trust to brew them correctly, not some mass distribution office where mediocrity is their motto."

Snape smirked at the last comment. "I can provide both, I keep a store for the occasional commission from a parent, or abused students who come to me asking why even puberty can't make them taller. You may take them at your leisure, and I will bill you for the cost of ingredients and the brew time it will take to replace them in my stores."

Harry beamed. "Great! You can send the bill to Gringott's and I'll take them tonight. That's added incentive not to order alcohol at the Three Broomsticks later, and a logical excuse when the guys try and convince me to do so." Snape grunted in disinterest and they both returned to their marking. After a few minutes Harry groaned. "This kid _had_ to have been having fever dreams when he wrote this essay. Listen 'Dragon's Tooth is a large, sharp tooth from the jaw of a dragon that can only be extracted by a dragon dentist when the dragon is under anesthesia…' I'm sorely tempted to give him points for using such a large word in that pile of rubbish. It's a bleeding plant, in the first case, and _tooth of dragon_ is only good after the dragon's dead, otherwise the heat from the blood will melt the cauldron, since it requires pewter rather than gold."

"Where on earth would he get the idea of a dragon dentist?" Snape growled, pulling the parchment from Harry's hands.

Harry rolled his eyes and snatched it back. "Likely his imagination. He obviously wrote this without even glancing at the text, as did most of his peers. Is there _any_ way to boost the study habits of the students?" He asked in disgust.

Snape huffed. "Teachers have been trying for centuries, nothing works."

Harry frowned. "There has to be something…maybe Hermione will have some ideas. She managed to convince half the Gryffindor Fourth Years last term that studying is fun, maybe she'll know of something to coax the rest of the school into the same idea." He scratched a T across the top of the essay and leaned back. "That was my last one. Have you got any other jobs for me to do, to finish out the hour?"

Snape shook his head, laying aside his last essay. "No, you are free to go and get yourself into mischief with your friends."

Harry smiled and stood, grabbing his robe. "Cool, do you want to come?" Snape looked at him askance, making Harry chuckle. "Don't look at me like that. When was the last time you got out of the castle on something other than business during the school year? Besides, don't you want to make sure I don't do anything stupid?"

Snape looked at him thoughtfully. "You make a fair argument, Potter, however I doubt your friends will see it that way."

"That's the best part!" Harry grinned. "Imagine the looks on their faces! Besides, I'd like you to be there, I wouldn't have anything to celebrate without your help, and at the very least you can help me temper Hermione's lectures when I ask her about the better study habits thing. Who knows, maybe together the three of us, and probably Draco, can come up with a good platform. In any case, McGonagall and Flitwick said they'd stop by to offer congratulations when my results come in, so you can shock the hell out of them. You know you can't resist _that_ idea."

Snape smirked. "The look on Minerva's face would be worth the pain and suffering of a night with you and your friends. And I can keep you out of mischief, since it seems to follow you everywhere."

"That's the spirit," Harry chuckled, slipping his robe on. "I'll go change and meet you in the Entrance Hall in a few minutes. You should probably change, too. Your teaching robes look expensive and, even with a backbone, Neville still has two left feet around you."

Snape nodded and Harry skipped out with a final farewell at the door.

SSHP

Harry dashed down the steps of the Entrance Hall, gasping for breath, just as Snape was moving towards the dungeons. "Snape, hold up!" He raced over as the man turned to look at him. "I know," He gasped. "I'm late. Ron waylaid me to pull some 'woe is me' crap and bitch about the unfairness of his life versus mine. I had to threaten to hex him before I could get out of the Common Room. I promise, it wasn't a cruel joke when I asked you to come to join me at the Three Broomsticks."

Snape sniffed indignantly as Harry caught his breath. "Now that we have wasted enough time, Potter, may we go? You're drawing stares. A professor does not run through the halls like a wild animal."

Harry blushed. "Oh, yeah…kind of forgot about the whole 'act like a teacher' thing. But at least I caught you before you swore off 'Potters' forever," He teased lightly.

Snape rolled his eyes and they moved to the doors and out onto the grounds. "I have arranged with Madame Pomfrey for you to take your commissioned potions tonight at 10, as well as a sleep aid. The Retexamus Neglectu can be painful if you're awake to experience the growth."

Harry smiled at him. "Thanks, I appreciate that you went to the effort. It wouldn't have occurred to me to take a sleeping potion, and then I would've christened my new quarters with my screaming. That wouldn't be a fun memory."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." He looked at Harry with a smirk, and the younger wizard blushed when he realized just how else he could christen his rooms with screaming.

"You know what I meant," He mumbled, scratching his neck and refusing to look the man in the eye. Snape chuckled cruelly at his discomfort and they walked the entire way to Hogsmeade in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry walked into the Hospital Wing with a bag of clothes to see Snape speaking with a giggling Matron. "Aw, I wanted to tell her about the look on McGonagall's face," He whined playfully as he approached them.

"Life is full of disappointments, Mister Potter," Snape told him with a smirk.

Harry shrugged. "Did you tell her what Neville said when my friends started moaning about you being there?" Snape shook his head and Harry grinned at the Hospital Wing Matron. "He raised his bottle to the professor and made a toast, of all things. He said 'To Professor Snape, without whom First Years wouldn't wet themselves, Harry might have gotten a bloated head, and the boogeyman would still be slithering around like a walking post board for ugly.' It was brilliant."

Madame Pomfrey tittered. "Cheers to that, Mister Potter. I must say, I'm glad that, for once, you're in here voluntarily and not due to some horrific accident." Harry chuckled. "Go and change, then let's get these potions into you."

Harry nodded and went into the Hospital Wing bathroom. A few minutes later, he emerged wearing silk pajamas in Slytherin green with snake embroidery on the collar and cuffs. He glared at Snape who didn't even try to hide his smirk. "They were a gift from Narcissa Malfoy, because Draco told her I almost got sorted into Slytherin. I like them…they're comfortable, and they're the only full pair of pajamas I own. I normally just wear trousers."

Madame Pomfrey smiled. "I think they make you look dashing, Mister Potter. Are you ready?"

Harry went to his usual bed and sat down. "Ready when you are."

The hospital matron moved towards him with a tray holding three potions. "You'll be monitored throughout the night. The Retexamus Neglectu can sometimes cause so much pain due to different forms of neglect that you would become comatose or die if we didn't counteract the sleep potion. If your heart rate gets too high, I'm warning you now that you will be woken up in an excruciating amount of pain Mister Potter."

Harry nodded. "I understand." He took the three potions, grimacing at the taste of them, and lay back in the bed. "I'm sure I'll be fine with you here, Madame Pomfrey, I always have been before." He placed his glasses on the table beside the bed.

The matron made to respond, but Snape spoke up. " _I_ will be monitoring your progress through the night, Mister Potter. I had to modify the eye potion to work with your specific eye color, as that particular shade tends to be more sensitive to light and movement. You could have an unpredictable reaction to the combined potions with the new ingredients and Madame Pomfrey is not equipped to adapt to whatever it might be," He explained, summoning an armchair and book to the bedside. "And before you ask, yes I do have better things to do, such as sleep, and yes you have been charged extra for this inconvenience."

Harry shrugged, yawning. "Whatever you say, Professor. I trust you," He muttered sleepily. He closed his eyes and shifted around in the bed until he was comfortable, drifting into sleep a few seconds later from the potion. He didn't see the matron gaping in shock at his calm acceptance of the odd circumstances.

SSHP

Harry woke early the next morning to see Snape eating a piece of toast as he read the last pages of his book. He sat up only to have a tray of food pop suddenly into existence on his lap, preventing further movement. After moving the tray to the side he looked back to Snape.

"I can guess the eye potion worked," He said, looking at his glasses on the bedside table. "Is there a big difference from the other?" He asked.

Snape conjured a full-length mirror without looking up from his book. "Your voice is now accompanied by a low rumble," Was all he said.

Harry figured the difference had been caused by his uncle's love of dragging him by the throat and stood to look at himself in the mirror. His pajamas still fit properly, but he felt like he was a lot taller. He removed his shirt. "Huh, I've got abs…" He muttered, poking his now washboard abdomen.

Snape glanced at him. "Had you been fed properly, your stomach would have created them naturally from your exercise routine, but years of malnutrition conditioned it to turn any unnecessary muscles into fat to feed off of. You have grown about 4 inches, as well. I resized your clothes to fit, otherwise your pants would have cut off circulation to your legs."

Harry grinned as the man returned to his book. "Cool, so I'm only a quarter-inch short of six-foot even." He sat back on the bed and grabbed the pear from his food tray, probably sent by Kreacher, who'd come to help Harry settle into his new rooms. The elf was more concerned about his eating habits than Dobby and Mrs. Weasley combined, now that they'd had a discussion about what it meant to serve the House of Black. "So I guess there weren't any complications, since I don't remember waking up screaming." Snape grunted, but didn't respond as he continued to stare at his book. "What are you reading? Aren't you bloody tired from being up all night?"

"What I am reading is called a book, Mister Potter, and when it became clear at around 1:30 last night that you would be having no adverse reactions, Madame Pomfrey coaxed me into sleeping for a few hours, so no I am not 'bloody tired' as you so eloquently put it," The Potions Master replied, turning the page.

Harry frowned at the man's sharp tone, but decided to keep his mouth shut. "Okay, but if I didn't have any problems, why are you still here? Don't you have something to do besides babysit me while I sleep, like shower?" He asked. 'Well, mostly shut,' He internally amended. To be honest, the biting comment about the book had hurt after the progress he thought they had made, especially after the night before when Snape had joined him at the pub.

Madame Pomfrey came over then, banishing the mirror Snape had conjured. "Mister Potter, I recommend you not bait your colleague so early in the day. He is positively venomous until he's had his coffee in the morning, and I won't allow that unhealthy substance in my infirmary if I can prevent it."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks for the advice, Madame Pomfrey, I'll keep it in mind."

The matron smiled softly back. "You're a professor now, Harry, at least for three days a week. You may still have to call your colleagues Professor, but you call me 'Poppy', dear. Eat your breakfast and I'll let you go after a final scan."

The young wizard's smile broadened to a grin. "Sure…Poppy…thanks for your help." He blushed slightly as he called the older witch by her given name for the first time. She nodded and bustled away. When Harry was sure she was out of earshot, he snapped his fingers. Almost immediately Dobby popped quietly into the room and placed two steaming mugs of black coffee on the bedside table, disappearing just as silently. Snape glanced at the mug nearest him and snatched it up quickly. Harry snorted as he crossed his legs Indian-style on the bed and put his tray on his lap. "Feel better?" He asked after Snape had taken a few sips.

The man looked up and seemed to consider Harry carefully. "Thank you," He muttered.

The Wizarding Hero waved it off. "I'm no good without coffee either most mornings. Taking a sleeping potion the night before is the only exception to the rule, because I sleep better." He picked up his own mug and sipped it delicately as he shifted the food on his plate with his fork.

"Food is meant to be eaten, Potter, and I doubt Poppy would be pleased if you don't eat something besides a piece of fruit," Snape told him after a minute.

Harry groaned. "I know, but my muscles feel like I did a five hour workout before bed, without stretching – even my jaw hurts – and I'm already struggling with the pear to stay down because of it. If I eat any more, I'll no doubt lose the fight with my stomach."

Snape pulled a potion vial from his pocket. "The pain is normal and should disperse in a few hours. For now you may take this pain potion. It won't rid you of the pain, but it should dampen it enough for you to eat."

Harry took the potion gratefully, chasing it down with coffee. "Thanks." He waited a few moments for it to kick in before he started eating. He managed half the plate before deciding he'd eaten enough. Just as he was setting the tray aside and finishing his coffee, the hospital matron came bustling back towards them. "Poppy," He warned after swallowing the last of the bitter and delicious liquid.

Snape glanced up and subtly maneuvered his book to mostly hide his own mug of coffee just as the Medi-Witch approached the bed. She didn't speak when she came to a stop beside Snape, only lifted her wand and pointed it at Harry. After a moment, she put her wand away.

"Well, Mister Potter, you may leave as soon as you've changed. Your eye correction has worked, and all of the problems related to your abuse and malnutrition have been reversed. Congratulations, you are a perfectly healthy 17 year old." Harry started to smile, but stopped when she leveled him with a glare. "But you won't remain so if you bring coffee into my Hospital Wing again, am I understood?" Harry nodded quickly and she turned on her heel, returning to her office.

Harry glanced at Snape, trying not to laugh at being caught. When he met Snape's eye, the smirk was obvious even behind his book, and he lost control, laughing raucously. Almost immediately he stopped again, looking down at his still-bare abdomen curiously. "That's weird."

Snape studied him over the top of his book. "What is?"

Harry looked at him, confusion written all over his face. "My laugh…that wasn't it. I've always had a sort of breathless laugh, but that was deep, and I could feel it rumbling in my chest."

Snape raised an eyebrow and pulled out his wand to perform his own scan on Harry's chest. A small strip of parchment appeared beside him and the Potions Master studied it for a moment before banishing the page and replacing his wand in his sleeve. "There is nothing wrong. Your breathless laugh was likely due to severe scarring on your lungs from an untreated case of pneumonia in your infancy. Now that the damage has been reversed, you have full use of your lungs to laugh or what have you. You will simply have to get used to your new laugh, much like others will have to adjust to your new height, broadened shoulders and deeper voice." Harry frowned, but shrugged and reached over to pull his clothes out of the bag by his bed. "Speaking of 'others', as it were, Albus has asked that I take you to London to purchase proper teaching attire." Snape added.

Harry nearly fell off the bed in shock. Shopping? With _Snape_? When he regained his balance, he looked at the older wizard. "I'm sorry. This teaching opportunity of mine just seems to keep inconveniencing you," He said apologetically.

"Nonsense, Mister Potter, I volunteered for this particular inconvenience. Albus presented the idea to the faculty and the only volunteers were Minerva and Vector. If you would rather go to shop with one of them, not to mention try on clothes in their presence, then I shall notify them for you, gladly; however, I volunteered for my benefit as much as yours. I refuse to work with you if you come to class wearing anything with stars or bright colors," Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste and Snape smirked. "Should you choose to shop with either of the women who volunteered, I guarantee you will return to the castle with a majority of both, Mister Potter. Additionally, I have a few things I need to pick up in Muggle London, where you'll undoubtedly want to pick up most of your clothing," Snape explained.

Harry had trouble not grinning. The man made it sound like he was being utterly selfish, and personal benefit might well be a part of it, but Harry wasn't dense enough not to recognize the kindness in the gesture. "Er, thank you, sir. When are we going?"

Snape glanced at the walls of the infirmary, then reached out and grabbed his wrist after looking around for a moment. "I wish Poppy would stop moving that damn clock," He muttered as he studied Harry's watch. "I need to pick up my items at nine, and then I'll take you to get what you need. We'll have to stop at Gringott's first, so we'll leave at 8:30. Meet me in the Headmaster's office in an hour and we will depart after he's shown you your new quarters." Harry nodded, uniquely aware of Snape's cool fingers pressing into his palm. Snape released him and stood, leaving the Hospital Wing without another word. Harry took a deep breath and pulled the curtains around his bed so he could change clothes. He'd wait until he got back to his dorm to shower and brush his teeth. If he were lucky, he'd finish before his roommates woke up and still have time to show Hermione and Ginny his new look.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry coughed as he exited the showers and went to the sinks to brush his teeth. Seamus was apparently up, the smell of his noxious body wash lingered heavily in the steamy air, and Harry could hear his out-of-tune singing echoing off the walls. As he brushed his teeth he studied his reflection more closely in the fog-proof mirror. His face was a little different, less lopsided. He remembered that his cousin had nearly shattered his cheekbone once when they were kids, so he guessed that might be part of it, as well his nose seemed straighter.

"You look gorgeous, dearie," The magical mirror commented as he stepped away to study more of his reflection. His shoulders were a bit broader, from huddling in corners and small spaces.

He frowned, taking the toothbrush out of his mouth. "Yeah," He spat the toothpaste into the sink and flipped the faucet to wash it away. "But it feels like…I dunno. I look too much like my dad, and I'd rather not look like that prat. I look like my mum more now, too, though." He told the mirror.

Seamus came over wearing nothing as he toweled his hair. The Irishman was an absolute exhibitionist sometimes. "Hey, Harry, nice look. I saw you when I came in and had to look twice to be sure it was you. You got tall."

"I know, I'm more klutzy than usual because I'm not used to the height, or the length of my legs. Lucky my feet didn't get bigger." Harry said as he filled a small cup with water then gargled. He spit that out as well and looked at the other boy curiously. "I feel like I'm missing something, though, to make me look, well, I don't know…complete I guess. Something to tie the new me together, you know. What do you think?"

Seamus looked him up and down and circled him. "Well, if I weren't seeing Theo I'd just tell you to stick me on your arm and have done, but I am, so I'll give my other idea a shot. Close your eyes," He commanded, pulling his wand out of his toiletry bag. Harry did and immediately felt his hair become dry and a lot longer, tickling his nose. "Let me just trim it up a bit. You have the worst split ends, no wonder your hair is always so untamable." Harry chuckled as Seamus cast the necessary spells. "Oh, Harry, love, that laugh…"

Harry stopped laughing and frowned. "I know, it sounds weird."

Seamus scoffed. "Are you joking? Your new voice sounds like dark chocolate, Harry, but that laugh…my god, it's like sex it sounds so good. Hold still, I'm going to brush your hair back. Lucky thing I'm still a couple inches taller than you." Harry grimaced as Seamus scraped a brush through his new, long (and apparently very tangled) hair, and then pulled it back sharply a few times. "Voila, what do you think? If you don't like it, I'll put it back to the way it was."

Harry opened his eyes and saw that the yanking had been Seamus tying his hair back against his collar with a red ribbon. He turned slightly and saw that his hair now reached to just below his shoulder blades. It was a little wavy, and when the light hit it just right you caught a glimpse of dark auburn highlights that had been mostly hidden in his moptop. He gaped at it a few minutes before he saw Seamus shifting nervously, probably thinking he hated it.

"Wow, Seamus, it looks fantastic! This is exactly what was missing. Thanks for the help," Harry said at last, smiling as the boy grinned.

Seamus beamed. "No problem, Harry, its great practice for me. I've been talking with Theo about maybe becoming a Beauty Wizard. The spells for this were pretty simple, but I know some others that can make your eyes change color so that when a person looks at them they see the color they're most attracted to, and one that can change your highlights to different complimentary colors depending on how the light hits them."

"That sounds really great, Seamus, I think you'd make a great Beauty Wizard. I love it, thank you, really." He turned away from the mirror. "If I didn't think Nott would kill me, I'd hug you right now despite your nudity."

Seamus snickered and looked Harry up and down again. "You're going to need new clothes, you can only resize fabric so much," He said, looking at the too-big shirt and jeans Harry had on. He waved his wand and they resized to fit better, but it was still obvious they were made for someone much larger.

Harry laughed at the look of consternation on his friend's face as he tried yet again to resize the clothes, to very little effect. The Irishman shivered as the sound resonated against the tile walls, making Harry blush when the other boy's member started to twitch in interest. "Sorry," He snickered, covering his mouth to try and keep the laugh in. When he thought he had it under control, he spoke to the boy who had moved away to get dressed. "Does it really sound like sex?" He asked.

Seamus smirked at him. "Trust me, love, it's better. You're going to have to be careful, that laugh is a weapon of mass orgasm. You do that in the Great Hall and you'll have everyone, even _Snape,_ trembling at your feet."

Harry blushed deeper and packed away his toiletries. "Thanks again for the help, Seamus. I'll see you around; I'm going to try and find 'Mione and Ginny before I have to meet Dumbledore to receive my new teacher's quarters. I'll ask him if I can have you and a couple others over on the weekends, since I'm still a student four days of the week and only an assistant teacher to the Seventh Years the other three."

Seamus grinned. "Sounds great, Harry. Hermione and Ginny were headed to the Common Room to wait for Ron when they couldn't wake him up right away."

Harry thanked him for the information and left for the common room. He found Hermione and Ginny arguing with Ron by the portrait hole. When they saw him, both girls squealed delightedly and rushed over to start complimenting him. He beamed at them and spun in a slow circle.

"What do you think? Do I look like a teacher, or at the very least like I'm 17?" He asked.

Hermione smacked his arm playfully. "Oh, Harry, you look gorgeous! And you let Seamus do your hair, which just makes you look irresistible. The whole school's going to want a piece of you."

Ginny giggled as she tugged on some hair that had escaped his low ponytail to hang against the side of his face. "Hell yeah they will! Screw teaching, you should quit school and become a gigolo, Harry, you'd make a fortune! And if you kept talking to your clients in that gorgeous voice you wouldn't even have to take off your clothes."

Harry chuckled, sending both girls into another round of delighted giggles. "My voice hasn't changed that much. How did you know I let Seamus mess with my hair and not someone else? Pansy knows an awful lot of beauty spells."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, Seamus has been saying for weeks that he'd love to tackle your hair with some of the spells he learned over the summer." She explained. Harry looked past her when he saw Ron approaching them. He braced himself for more spitting comments as had been the norm the last couple of weeks, but was surprised.

"You look good, Harry, but you look a bit like a tosser with the long hair." The boy said, acting as if they'd never fought.

Harry glared at him. He didn't know why, but something about the way the other boy had said 'tosser' set him on edge. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ron scoffed as though it were obvious. "What do you care, Harry? It's not like you're actually a fag." Harry glared at the term, but didn't respond. Ron narrowed his eyes. "I was just saying you _looked_ like one of those abnormal perverts, Harry."

"Abnormal?" Ginny gagged, looking at him.

Ron looked at her. "Yeah, Ginny, abnormal. Homosexuals are unnatural freaks that should be kept away from normal people. The sooner you learn that, the better, so you can avoid being contaminated by their _filth_."

Ginny gaped as tears started to form in her eyes. "But Fred and George, and Charlie…they're gay, Ron. So are two of your dorm mates, your friends…" She murmured, her chin quivering.

Ron sneered. "I know, Gin, it's disgusting, but I have to be exposed to their filth until term ends. I call them my charity case because if I didn't pretend to be their friend they wouldn't have any. Don't worry about our brothers, Ginny, they aren't gay, they're just sick. They'll come to their senses someday."

Ginny started to gasp for breath. "You bastard!" She cried, punching her brother across the face. She flung herself into Harry's arms as she started to cry in earnest and Harry was tempted to punch the boy himself, as Ron looked at his little sister in confusion, rubbing his bruised jaw. He looked to Hermione for explanation, who huffed at him and looked positively murderous as she left the common room. Ron went after the girl he'd been trying to ask out as Harry continued to hold Ginny tight to him.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Seamus asked, coming up to them with Neville and Dean. She shook her head as she sobbed, then took off back to the girl's dorm. The boys looked at Harry.

"Ron said I looked gay with long hair and when I asked him if he had a problem with that, he said some really horrible things about homosexuality being abnormal. Ginny has been seeing Luna since the first day of term, and they just recently agreed to do an official 'meet the parents' over the hols like Neville and Blaise are doing," He explained, staring after Ginny sadly. "This has to be devastating for her, she was hoping to have Ron's support, since she's the only girl and Mrs. Weasley might be a little disappointed at first that she won't have guaranteed grandchildren."

Seamus snarled. "That prick, I can't believe he's been a homophobe all this time. How could he say that to his baby sister?!"

Harry shrugged. "To be fair, he didn't know she's been seeing Luna. It does bother me a bit, though, that he's been hiding those feelings all this time. What if that prank that almost killed you last year was Ron? What if he's the one that's been spelling the word 'fag' to appear on yours and Neville's books and things in class?"

Neville furrowed his brow. "That doesn't make sense, Harry, why wouldn't he have said something before if he feels this way?"

Harry shrugged, as did Seamus, but Dean scowled. "Because he was outnumbered. Harry and I have stayed friends with you guys without hesitation, so if he'd tried anything out in the open, the four of us could've overpowered him easily. But Harry's a teacher, now, he can't attack Ron, even to defend you."

Harry looked at the taller boy. "That's a good point, Dean, and his temper has always made his mouth big enough to fit both his feet in. When I didn't immediately deny being gay, it must have upset him enough to say what he really feels on the subject. Probably hoping that, as his best friend, his opinion on the matter would sway me against that lifestyle." He turned back to the Girls Dorm, where they could hear things being thrown around. "Would one of you please check on Ginny, talk her down and convince her that she's not alone and that we all still love her? I'd go, but I'm already going to be late to meet the Headmaster and Snape."

Neville and Seamus nodded, moving towards the staircase. The spell that normally would have sent them sliding back down didn't activate because they didn't pose a threat and they disappeared into the dorm room. The sound of things being thrown against the walls stopped almost immediately and Harry turned with Dean to leave the common room.

"So," The dark-skinned boy started as they moved away from Gryffindor Tower. "Are you?"

Harry looked at him with a smirk and raised his eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific, Dean," He said, chuckling lightly. "Am I a wizard? Duh. Am I a parseltongue? When I want to be. Am I handsome? Devilishly so. Am I smart? Smarter than you, you-" He was interrupted when the boy cuffed him upside the head, making him laugh. "Well, be specific! Am I what? And watch it, I can give you detentions for that, now I'm a Probationary Professor."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Are you, you know…gay?" He asked nervously. "I mean, you know I wouldn't have a problem if you were, but…well, I guess I always expected you to marry and bear little heroes that'd run around the world getting into trouble and rescuing damsels in distress."

"There's potions and spells that make it possible for two wizards or witches to have kids, Dean, as long as there's a witch to carry the baby to term," Harry said.

"So you are gay?"

Harry stopped walking and sighed. He turned to look out one of the windows in the corridor, leaning against the wall as he stared at the lake in the morning sun. "I…I don't really know. I thought I was into Cho, but that same year I felt no real attraction to Fleur. She had Veela blood, I should've been falling over myself like all the other boys, but I just sort of admired her for being talented enough to be picked by the cup. I thought she was pretty, but not-not drop-dead gorgeous. Even Seamus had two left feet around her, but Neville felt the same way I did."

"Some people are immune to Veela charm, Harry, and some others like Ron are incredibly sensitive to it. No one knows why some are immune, but it doesn't mean they're gay," Dean suggested.

Harry nodded. "That's what Hermione said, and I didn't really think about it for awhile, but…" He looked at his friend. "The last couple weeks, I've been noticing that this guy I've been talking to says some really flirty comments on occasion. But I don't know if he does it on purpose, or even if he bats for my team." He turned back to the window. "I mean I was scrawny, nerdy, and short up until last night, why would _anyone_ be flirting with me, let alone this guy, who's really kind of handsome? But a couple days ago, I realized that I _wanted_ him to be flirting, I wanted him to be coming on to me."

"Then flirt back," Dean said simply.

Harry looked at the boy sharply. "What?" He squeaked, his voice breaking.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Look at your face, Harry. All I did was tell you to flirt back and you got this horrid look of fear on your face. Think about how you felt just now, that 'what if he rejects me' feeling. Is it less fear than you felt when you wanted to ask Cho out?"

Harry considered that. "No, it's worse, but that doesn't mean much at this point. Because I've got halfway status between teacher and student, everyone in this school is off-limits for me. If I touch a student I get fired, and if I touch a teacher, even one I don't have classes with, they get fired and very possibly go to jail. It's lose-lose."

"Well the only other solutions are to find someone you trust a _lot_ and experiment with them, or wait until after our NEWTs," Dean said.

Harry smirked. "Too bad all my gay friends are dating people." He joked. "Come on, I am now seriously late to meet with Snape and Dumbledore. I probably won't ever see my new quarters at this rate." They moved quickly together through the halls and staircases, parting at the Great Hall, where Dean gave him one last sympathetic smile. When Harry finally approached the gargoyle at quarter to nine the stone beast moved aside instantly. He rode the stairs up, figuring there was no point in rushing at this point. After he was deposited before the Headmaster's door, it swung open before he could knock.

"Ah, right on time, Harry," Dumbledore said cheerily as the Boy Savior stepped cautiously into the office.

"Yes, Mister Potter, for once you've shown punctuality," Snape agreed from where he stood beside the fireplace.

Harry looked at the smirking Potions Master in confusion, then to the clock on the wall by his head. It was two minutes before 8:00. He looked at his watch, which read 8:45, and realized what had happened. "Sneaky bastard," He breathed, smiling with admiration. Snape had set his watch ahead a full forty-five minutes when he'd checked the time in the hospital wing. He looked at the room's occupants. "I'd have been here sooner, but I had to do damage control after…well after Ron Weasley nearly got himself killed by two very angry witches."

Snape grunted. "What did Mister Weasley do to Miss Granger this time?"

Harry frowned. "That's the thing, she was just a by-product this time, the bystander who got angry on another's behalf. Ron said some really horrible things about homosexuality being unnatural, and that gays were perverts," Snape scowled and even Dumbledore's twinkle disappeared when Harry said this. "He was talking to Ginny and I when he said that, and worse. He didn't realize that Ginny has been dating Luna Lovegood since the start of term. Ginny got really upset and hit him. If he'd said any more, I think Hermione and Ginny both would've hexed him into an early grave. As it is, I had to get Neville and Seamus to go calm her down, in part so they wouldn't go and kill Ron themselves. Afterwards, Dean and I left so I could come here and we started talking about…" Harry stopped himself and cleared his throat. "We started talking, and Dean suggested Ron might have been the one pranking our dorm mates in secret because he knew Dean and I would easily overpower him if we'd known it was him." This wasn't technically a lie, it was just out of sequence, and he'd been the one to suggest the first part. He didn't want either of these men to know he was having an identity crisis on the cusp of potentially starting his career.

Dumbledore hummed in thought. "This is most disturbing news, Harry. If Mister Thomas is correct, then Mister Weasley is responsible for nearly killing Mister Finnegan last term. This will certainly require further investigation, and I shall move Mister Weasley into a separate room within Gryffindor until it is settled. Thank you for mediating tempers, Harry, and for bringing it to my attention."

"Of course, sir, no thanks necessary. If I could have done more, I would have. As it is, you may find Weasley has some new scars or some embarrassing graffiti on his face when you next see him," Harry told the old wizard.

Dumbledore frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, after Ginny hit him, he looked at Hermione to explain why because Ginny was crying hysterically in my arms. 'Mione took off looking like she could spit fire, and the dolt followed her. If he managed to catch up to her, and I'm sure he did because he was right on her heels, she would've had her own go at him, especially if he shoved his foot any further into his mouth. And believe me, if you know anything about Ronald Weasley, you know that he's always got room in his mouth for more foot," Harry explained bitterly.

Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement of that truth and stood. "Well, I see no reason for us to step in now, I'm sure Mister Weasley will go to a professor if Miss Granger does hex him," He said, not looking like he believed for a second that Ron would do any such thing. Personally, Harry hoped that Ron went to Poppy, who'd mentioned, when Harry had accompanied Seamus to the infirmary after the accident the previous year, that her brother had died at the hands of homophobic Muggles. "Come, Harry, I'll show you to your quarters, and from there you and Severus can floo to Diagon Alley." He led the way out of the office, and Harry followed with the Potions Master close behind.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why so close to the dungeons, Albus?" Snape asked as they came to a stop before the portrait guarding Harry's new quarters.

Harry stepped forward to examine the incredible portrait of a giant snake surrounded by hundreds of smaller ones, all slithering around one another. The painting almost appeared to pulse with their constant movements, not a single blank space to be seen through the hundreds of writhing reptiles.

"The Governors approved Harry's request to move the Defense classroom from the third floor to the larger classroom off the Paved Courtyard," Dumbledore explained. "This room is the perfect halfway point between his classroom and your office and quarters. As you two will be working closely together for the term, I thought it a good placement. If Harry wishes to change quarters next year then I will gladly accommodate him, but for now he'll be here for both of your convenience."

Harry grinned at the man, turning away from the painting he'd slowly been becoming hypnotized by. "It's great," He said happily. "And you're right that it'll make getting around easier. It's even closer to most of my classes than Gryffindor was. I absolutely love this portrait. What's it of?"

Dumbledore smiled, looking at the picture with pride. "That was a moment of brilliance on my part, if I do say so myself. It's the nest of a Basilisk, painted by Salazaar Slytherin himself. You can set your password in parseltongue, if you like, or in English. She understands both, but only speaks the first."

Harry turned back to the portrait. "Well, I guess I'll put it in English for now, since you said my friends could visit on the weekends, as long as I'm not in here alone with any of them. What's something no one would guess? Oh, I know!" He started to lean forward to whisper the password, but Dumbledore stopped him.

"Would you like us to step away for a moment, Harry?"

The boy looked at him like he had two heads. "Why? I trust you both not to abuse my password, and Professor Snape will be here all the time anyway. It's just easier. You'll be able to enter whether you know it or not, in any case." Having explained his logic he leaned towards the large snake. " _Hello,"_ He hissed.

The Basilisk, which had been sleeping, opened her eyes. " _Greetings, Speaker, I am called Isis. These are my children, and together we will guard your quarters. The old Speaker who painted us cast spells to make whatever room we protect impenetrable without the password. We protect every point of entry."_ Harry grinned at this news, but listened as Isis continued. _"We cannot be destroyed, or confused. Speak your password, and if you ask it of us, you can set three questions for unknown guests."_

Harry considered this and nodded. _"Alright, besides these two wizards with me, and anyone I tell you at a later date, they have to tell you my favorite stone, which is onyx, my favorite day of the year: November 1st, and they have to finish the quote 'A rose by any name would…"_ He paused to let Isis know that she would stop there. " _The correct answer is 'smell just as sweet'. I have to ask, though…how will you ask the questions? There aren't any other Speakers in the school, and the Headmaster said you couldn't speak English."_

" _In the case that non-Speakers wish entry, the Creator spelled my eyes that I might project my thoughts to appear in English before the non-Speaker who seeks to pass. What is your password, Speaker?"_ The Basilisk asked again.

Harry blushed and leaned back. He closed his eyes and concentrated on speaking English. "Belladonna," He said clearly, just loud enough for Isis and the professors to hear. She nodded her large head and the portrait swung inward. Harry led the way into the brightly lit space, stopping in the middle of the sparsely furnished living room. It was humongous. He wasn't sure what to do with it all.

Snape, apparently aware of what he was thinking, smirked. "Bookshelves, Mister Potter, and a kitchenette," He chuckled.

Harry looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "You could fit a _gourmet_ kitchen in here and still have room for another two."

Dumbledore chuckled. "It is rather large, Harry, but it only has an arm chair and a desk. Once you've furnished it properly, it won't look quite so big." Harry decided to take the older wizard at his word and moved further into the quarters. He opened the door closest to the entrance and found it was a coat closet. The next door he checked was on the right wall and opened into a good-sized room that Dumbledore said was a bedroom or office space. On the same wall he found a small, comfortable bathroom with Cerulean blue tiling and black fixtures. On the back wall he opened the door next to the desk and stared at it in confusion. There were shelves and hooks on the walls, and a line of cabinets under a wooden counter that ran the length of the left wall. In the back right corner he could see a storage closet filled top to bottom with shelves.

"Ah, a Potions lab," Snape said, looking into the room. "I would guess the previous tenant was the resident Potions Professor."

Dumbledore nodded from beside Harry. "Back when I first taught Transfiguration, the Potions Master stayed in these quarters, before Horace Slughorn got the post and moved his office and quarters to the Sixth Floor."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Why would he do that? That's seems an inexplicably silly place to have his quarters and office if his class was in the dungeons."

Dumbledore smiled. "He had been certain the Governors would at some point approve his request to move Potions out of what he termed the 'dank and creepy bowels of the castle', despite knowing there were more reasons to keep the class where it was. Horace Slughorn was always a touch odd." The aged Headmaster winked at Harry, who snorted at the irony of Dumbledore saying someone else was odd.

He closed the door to the lab. He had the year, at least, to figure out what to do with it. Maybe he could convert it to the workout space he'd been thinking of for the second bedroom. He moved to the last door in the room, which stood at the center of the back wall. When he opened it he gaped at what he supposed was his master bedroom. It was big, but not terrifyingly so. A king bed, chest of drawers, and an armoire would cut the space down to size, with enough room for some shelves, his trunk, and maybe a nice carpet to put in front of the fireplace. The thing that had him gaping, though, was the French doors that led onto a stone balcony, large enough to hold some plants and a small table for two. He made a beeline for the doors and stepped out. After a quick look down, he realized he was dangling over the cliff that supported the Great Hall, but further north so that he was just above one of the deeper parts of the Black Lake. Dumbledore stepped up beside him.

"Professor Blidworth had a long infatuation with one of the merfolk in the lake. She was very sweet, though with a bit of a temper. Eventually, their inability to mate in any way forced her to leave him, but I remember he used to come out to this balcony and stare mournfully into the lake. He tried to drown himself once, but the Giant Squid grabbed him before he even hit the water and replaced him neatly here on his balcony. He left not long after, convinced the lake creatures were out to drive him to insanity via depression. He was a very sad man," The Headmaster remarked, frowning has he looked over the lake.

"What happened to him, Headmaster?"

"Last I heard he'd gotten married, had a few kids, and anonymously funded a delightful Muggle attraction in America called 'Sea World'. From what I understand, it's a large aquarium with some shows and interactive exhibits."

Harry snorted, and he could hear Snape groaning behind him at the ridiculousness of it all. He walked back into the empty bedroom and went to the door on his right. He expected to find a linen closet, but instead found a large ensuite bathroom. It was done in beautiful cerulean and onyx tiles, the fixtures all the same black as the other bathroom. The tub was gigantic, capable of holding an entire Quidditch team, and beside it was the linen closet he'd been looking for, the same size as the small guest bathroom.

"So what do you think?" Dumbledore asked. "Are the rooms fitting for you, Professor Potter?" His eyes were twinkling madly as he looked at Harry over his glasses, and Harry smiled abashedly.

"They'll take some getting used to, especially without Seamus and Ron's nightly battle for the title of 'loudest snore' to lull me to sleep," He admitted, blushing at being asked his opinion on the accommodations. "And, to be honest, it's far more space than I know what to do with. But I like the location, and the color schemes in the bathrooms are really neat. Plus, the balcony is a nice bonus. It's more than I deserve, really. I'm still a student; I'm only a real teacher three days a week. I get that I can't stay in the dorms, so I can't be tempted to help students on the homework I assign, but I sort of expected a converted storage closet off my office, or something like that."

Dumbledore waved him off. "Nonsense, Harry, you're practically a full-time faculty member. I've seen your transcript, and if the listings weren't fully booked before the scheduled time for Hogwarts NEWTs, I would immediately recommend you for early graduation. You're beating Miss Granger out in every class you have with her, but you didn't hear it from me."

Harry blushed deeper, but didn't say anything. He looked at Snape, pleading for a rescue, and the man stepped forward. "Headmaster, Potter and I should probably go. We still have to stop at Gringotts, and the sooner we leave, the more likely that any furnishings Mister Potter wishes to order will be delivered before we return this evening."

Dumbledore nodded and Harry gratefully followed the Potions Master back into the living room, where the older wizard started a fire in the fireplace. He pulled out a small leather bag and threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire, calling for Diagon Alley. The flames turned green and he gestured for Harry to go first. Harry stepped into the fire and closed his eyes tight as he felt himself start to spin wildly. He hated floo. After a moment he felt himself begin to slow and opened his eyes just in time to see The Leaky Cauldron spin into existence. He stepped out, stumbling, just as Snape came through behind him.

Harry watched the man step out of the flames with perfect grace and balance. "You have got to teach me how you do that." He said, admiration clear in his voice.

Snape grunted and brushed the soot off his dark robes. "Albus asked me to inform you that he had a discussion with the Goblins of Gringotts and that you should 'expect a surprise'. I will accompany you to the bank and get you started, but I'm afraid I will have to leave shortly after to go and gather my things from Muggle London. I expected your quarters to be better furnished, but as they are not, we will have to shop for furnishings first. If I have not returned before you are finished, I'm sure you're capable of finding one of the stores here in the Alley that specialize in furnishings. Do not leave Diagon Alley, am I understood?"

Harry nodded quickly, and Snape moved immediately past him and through the pub, headed for the entrance to Diagon Alley proper. It was a silent walk to Gringotts, and Harry took the chance to note where the second-hand furniture shops were. He desperately hoped the surprise Albus had mentioned was some money, because he feared today's shop would deplete his small vault entirely. When they reached the bank, Snape immediately approached one of the tellers that didn't have a customer. Harry grinned when he saw it was the one Goblin he knew.

"Hi, Griphook, how've you been?" He asked cheerfully.

The Goblin looked at him in surprise. "I've been well, Mister Potter. What business can Gringotts help you with today?"

Snape spoke before Harry could. "Mister Potter will need to convert some gold into Muggle money, and wishes to notify the bank that one or more large bills will be placed against his vault throughout the day."

Griphook logged the information on a roll of parchment after a smaller Goblin had brought him Harry's file. "As a stipulation of his trust fund, any large bills numbering more than once a month must have a logged reason that falls under the guidelines set forth by James and Lily Potter, deceased, if Mister Potter is still enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry rolled his eyes at the lengthy way of asking 'why are you spending money when you have room and board already paid for' while Snape replied dutifully. "Mister Potter will be purchasing furnishings and clothing to suit his probationary appointment as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School."

Griphook ran his pointed nail down each page as he searched through Harry's file for something specific. After a long minute he looked up. "Please excuse me for a moment." He turned and spoke in Gobbledygook to one of the Goblins at a desk behind his, who stood immediately and disappeared off further into the bank. Harry stood, nervously chewing his lip, as Snape huffed in irritation and glanced continuously at the clock on a nearby wall. After a few minutes, he turned to Harry.

"I'm sure you can finish your business, Mister Potter. If they allow it, tell them you would like a Muggle debit card to use for the day, so we don't have to return here again halfway through shopping for your attire," Snape said. He walked away before Harry could ask how much he should get if they said 'no' to the debit card.

Now twice as nervous as he'd been before, Harry shifted on his feet as Griphook simply looked over some other files he had at his desk. Just as he was getting to the point where he was sure he'd chew a hole through his lip, a Goblin approached the desk from behind Griphook. This Goblin was different from the rest, he wore what seemed like a very expensive suit and carried a small cane.

"Mister Potter, I am Burgdorf, Keeper of the High Vaults. I oversee the vaults of Gringotts' richer clients. I would like to speak with you in my office regarding your inheritance," The stuffy Goblin said.

Harry thought Burgdorf was a bit stuck up, and didn't feel comfortable following him to an office alone. He felt about an inch tall around this Goblin, and got a bad feeling about being alone with him while discussing his money. "Er, alright, but can Griphook come? He can help translate any legalese I can't understand, and I trust him implicitly with my gold."

Burgdorf sniffed and glared at Griphook who looked at him smugly in response. "Very well, Mister Potter. Please follow me." Harry let Griphook go before him and followed both Goblins beyond the desks to a large, spacious office. Once they were all seated, Burgdorf spoke. "Mister Potter, upon your graduation from Hogwarts you would have received a letter notifying you of your full inheritance. The vault you have been accessing is your trust fund, and only upon graduation would you gain full access to your many vaults and properties. If you were to leave school you would be unable to access any vault before your 17th birthday. However, certain clauses were put in place by your parents in the case of their deaths, so that you could temporarily access one of the smaller vaults for emergency expenses in the case of continued enrollment. One clause, as given by Lily Potter, was an employment clause." He pulled out the file Griphook had been studying before this whole thing started and began to read. "In the case of Harry James Potter gaining a position as Student-Teacher or Probationary Instructor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry while still enrolled, he is to be given full access to his inheritance as specified in the case of graduation from said school."

Harry stared at the snooty Goblin. "Okay, so what's the problem? That sounds pretty straightforward," He said nervously.

Burgdorf looked at Harry as though he were a moron. "Mister Potter, the Potter fortune is one of the largest in the Wizarding World, and certainly one of the oldest. I cannot, in good conscience, give you full access to this vast empire without insisting you appoint a manager of your estate. If you do not, you will quickly find yourself overwhelmed by investors looking to steal your money. As a manager of many accounts, I can promise you that some of these requests can be insistent and persuasive, and it would take a Goblin to spot the false opportunities and to pass along the ones that best suit you or your accounts' previous investments. I personally recommend myself, as I currently manage the estates of many other respectable Wizarding families. I have drawn up the contract, all you need do is sign."

Harry frowned and grabbed the contract. Fred's lessons and Snape's reinforcement of the warning about persuasive contractors came suddenly to mind and Harry began to scan the contract for the trap he could feel Burgdorf was hoping he'd fall into. His vision swam as the words blurred together. He couldn't read legalese, and he desperately wished Snape had stayed to help. Glancing over, he saw Griphook staring at Burgdorf with a look of pure venom. When he saw Harry looking at him, he glanced at the contract and shook his head ever so slightly. So Griphook knew it was a trap as well.

"I have a better idea," Harry said, placing the contract on the desk, unsigned. "I don't really know you, Burgdorf; you've never presented yourself to me, even this last summer when I turned 17. I can't very well trust someone I don't know with my parent's fortune. They entrusted it to me, to take care of, and if I sign it over to you, I'd feel like I was doing them a disservice. I mean you already manage some estates, as you said, and I think my parent's would prefer to have their estate managed by a Goblin with more time to dedicate to it, particularly if it's as large as you say. Griphook has always handled my money before, he was even the one who signed the waiver when I had to reimburse the Weasley's for the car incident, so I know I can trust him to handle investor's properly, and he knows me well enough to send along the opportunities _I_ would consider, not just cookie-cutter investments. I would like for Griphook to be my Estate Manager, if he would accept the position." He looked to the Goblin he'd met on his very first day in the Wizarding World. "What do you say, Griphook?"

The Goblin nodded. "I would be honored to manage your estate, Mister Potter. What will you offer in return for my service?"

Harry considered that. "Well, what do you have now?"

"My current wage is a Sickle and four Knuts an hour, and Gringotts provides a small apartment near Knockturn Alley," Griphook answered. Harry could see the truth in his eyes.

"Alright, well how about a larger apartment, so long as it's less than 10 galleons a month, and a wage of four Sickles an hour? And of course you'll get an office, even if it must be outside of Gringotts. I can't very well expect you to concentrate on my estate if you're amongst the noisy bustle in the lobby," Harry suggested.

"Very well, Mister Potter," Griphook answered. He snapped his fingers and a contract appeared before them, outlining everything they had just agreed to. Harry picked up the quill, ignoring the glare Burgdorf was sending them, and signed where Griphook indicated he should. When he'd finished, the contract placed itself in his folder, which jumped into Griphook's hands while the other contract burst into flames.

Burgdorf spoke, trying his hardest to seem cheerful…as cheerful as a Goblin could be in any case. "Congratulations, Mister Potter, you now have full-access to your estate. Allow me to give you and your Estate Manager the use of my office, so that you may discuss today's business." He left quickly, and Harry looked at Griphook.

"I really just want to do what Professor Snape said before all this happened, and get a Muggle debit card for my accounts," He said, worrying his lip. "And I guess I'll need a full statement for what exactly I've inherited, and a monthly statement on how much I've spent. Oh, er…what's the conversion rate from Wizard money to Muggle?"

"One galleon is 100 pounds, a Sickle is equal to 50 pounds, and a Knut is 25 pounds," Griphook listed as he copied Harry's requests into the file. "Very well, Mister Potter. Wait here whilst I retrieve your card. I will send your statements within the week." Harry thanked the Goblin, and when he'd left the office, he breathed deeply, releasing it in a huff. That business crap had been hard, but he was a little proud of himself for how well he'd handled it, considering. For the most part, he was in awe at how rich he was. By Muggle standards, even the Weasley's were upper middle class. He had a new respect for just how rich Hermione's parents must be. After a minute, Griphook returned with the card and they exchanged goodbyes quickly. Harry was unbelievably happy when he stepped out into the bright sun.


	10. Chapter 10

"Mister Potter, what are you doing? I have been gone nearly two hours, why have you not completed your furniture shopping?" Snape asked, coming to stand next to the Wizarding Savior.

Harry looked at him, then back to the wall of armoires. "I stopped at the leather shop down the street to get a wallet for my Muggle money and card, went to the nursery to find some nice plants for my balcony, then spent a good forty-five minutes finding the perfect living room set and matching kitchen. I also found my office set and linens, plus pillows and the other little things I'll need. I have to say, it's simpler to shop for kitchens the Wizard way, since they can magically install the exact set you pick out. All I have left is to choose some carpets, and settle on my bedroom set. If there's time before lunch, I'd like to find some knick-knacks to add personality. Right now though, I'm stuck. They don't have a bedroom set that I like. I managed to pick my chest of drawers and bed all right, but I'm stuck on the armoire. I know I want ebony, but I can't choose between these two." He indicated the black armoires in front of him.

"They look identical, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded. "They are, aesthetically, but the one on the right has charms to prevent someone tampering with my clothes. The one on the left, however, offers charms to keep clothes smelling freshly laundered and wrinkle-free. Both will expand to accommodate additions to my wardrobe."

Snape sighed. "Just pick one, Potter. I'm sure if you asked, Flitwick would be delighted to teach you the charms to encompass your needs no matter which you should choose."

Harry grinned at the Potions Master. "Wow, thanks, Professor, I hadn't even thought about adding my own charms. Alright," He looked to the clerk that had been following him while he shopped. "I guess I'll take the one on the left, since it has the more immediately necessary spells." The clerk nodded and the armoire disappeared with a wave of his wand. "We can go next door for the carpets and the little touches that mean so much." Snape nodded, but before they could leave the clerk stepped forward.

"Would you like to look at the bill, Mister Potter, to be sure we have everything?" The man asked. Harry nodded and took the roll of parchment.

"Seems right, except I wanted the ebony office set, and the dark cherry wood with black leather for the living room. It's listed backwards here," He said, handing it back. The clerk adjusted the information and when Harry approved it he wished them a good rest of shop as the two professors left.

As Harry walked into the next shop, he groaned. He'd never realized just how hard it was to furnish a living space. There were two walls dedicated entirely to carpets, and shelf upon shelf of everyday bric-a-brac. He moved to the carpets and huffed.

"This is going to be impossible. I've only got solid colors for everything, and I can't imagine choosing a carpet that doesn't have a nice pattern, at least for the living room," He said, looking at the hundreds of throw rugs.

A clerk moved in their direction. "How may I help you?" The pretty witch asked politely.

"Mister Potter is choosing carpets to match his furnishings," Snape said, sneering at the girl as she sidled closer to Harry.

The younger wizard backed away from her slightly, uncomfortable with the proximity she'd created between them. "Er, yeah, what he said. I'm sort of trying to get a dark and earthy color scheme, since my rooms are a bit bright on their own."

The young witch smiled at him in a way he supposed was meant to be seductive. "Most wizards let their girlfriends or wives pick their furnishings for them. A woman's touch is a wonderful thing to have for a new home."

Harry blushed. "But I'm not seeing anyone. I probably should've asked Albus to let Hermione or Ginny come with us," He said, looking at Snape.

The Potions Master smirked evilly, glancing at the clerk. "Don't worry, Mister Potter, I'm sure this lovely young woman wouldn't mind offering her…woman's touch. I shall meet you for lunch at The Leaky Cauldron when you have finished."

Harry gaped as Snape abandoned him with the clerk, who had practically attached herself to his side in the interim. He looked at her and blushed. "Er, hi," He said lamely.

"Hi, I'm Miranda," The girl said, smiling up at him dolefully. "Did you really duel twenty Death Eaters and You-Know-Who all at once when you were just 14?"

Harry shot a nasty look in the direction Snape had disappeared. "No. It's a long story, and I don't want to talk about it. Will you please just…help me find some rugs?" He snapped, having to practically pry her off his arm. He started to walk along the wall, looking at the different fabrics and patterns, the girl following with starry-eyes, completely undeterred by his attitude.

SSHP

Harry huffed, glaring at Snape as he sat in the booth across from the Potions Master. "I can't believe you ditched me with that clerk. The girl should be given the clueless award for the year. I had to tell her five times that I wasn't interested, and she still wouldn't take the freaking hint. I eventually had to speak with her manager just so I could shop for two minutes without being asked the most ridiculous questions imaginable. Merlin help me, if you didn't leave for a damn good reason I will spend every moment I have as a semi-official teacher making your life hell. That girl practically molested my arm!" He snarled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in a pout.

Snape only smirked and placed a shrunken shopping bag on the table. When he'd removed the charm, Harry leaned forward curiously, not having expected any sort of explanation. The Potions Master pulled out a beautiful onyx-and-white-marble chess set.

Harry scoffed. "You fed me to that wild beast so you could get a new Wizard's Chess set?"

Snape glared at him in response. "This chess set is for you, Mister Potter. It is a tradition in Hogwarts that the professor's each purchase something for new hires to make them feel welcome. The faculty has not given anything to new Defense Instructors for several years, deciding we would wait to see if they survived the year. After discussing it, your professor's have decided to continue with the tradition this year, to show our faith in you or some such rot. It was Albus' ridiculous idea. If, however, you would rather not take my gift, I would be more than happy to return it."

Harry grinned. "No, I love it, thank you. I was just upset…I should've known you wouldn't abandon me to that devil woman for something stupid."

Snape raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I wouldn't be so sure, Mister Potter, I got a great amount of pleasure from your discomfort."

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered "sadist" under his breath. He picked up the re-shrunk package. "Glad I could make you happy, Snape. I appreciate the chess set, it's gorgeous, and onyx is my favorite stone. I hadn't even thought about getting a set of my own, I'm so used to someone else having one that I can use. Being alone in my rooms is going to be hard to get used to, I've gotten so comfortable with the noise and chaos of Gryffindor."

Snape nodded. "It is not uncommon, Mister Potter. Most of the faculty still spend their free periods in the Teacher's Lounge, choosing to socialize rather than to sit in the suffocating silence of their rooms. Even I have found myself in there from time to time. I would not be overly surprised if a few of the professors came together on their gifts to purchase a record player or magical radio for your rooms." He stopped talking as Tom came over with two mugs of his blackest coffee.

Harry smiled when he realized Snape must have ordered them. He wondered if Snape had gotten them lunch, since no one had come to take their order.

"I have ordered us both the beef stew, the only edible thing in this establishment." Snape said, apparently sensing Harry's train of thought. "I wish for you to tell me what happened at Gringotts. The timeline you gave me before suggests you were there for another twenty minutes after I left, at the very least."

Harry sipped his coffee for a minute, then started to relay the events to the Potions Master, struggling when he tried to explain the bad feeling he'd gotten with Burgdorf. By the time he'd finished, their stews were arriving. "I'm really glad I always thought to hide my vault and wizard money from my relatives. If they'd found out I had piles of gold, they would have found some way to access my vault, probably through my death."

Snape nodded seriously. "It would appear your instincts are as well-honed in the matter of your fortune as they are in the case of your survival. You did well to recommend Griphook. He once managed the accounts of the Malfoy's, before they hired a Wizard to replace him. They would not have near the vast estate they do now if it had not been for his investment recommendations to Lucius' grandfather."

Harry grinned at the rare praise, and began to eat.

SSHP

Harry groaned as he followed Snape into yet another Muggle clothing store. "I already have a full teacher's wardrobe, Snape, what could we possibly buy here that we haven't already got?"

"Proper recreation attire, Mister Potter. Even on the days during which you attend classes you are a Probationary Instructor and thus a member of the Hogwarts faculty. You must dress for your station even as you muck around with your peers," Snape explained impatiently.

Harry sighed in defeat and held his arms out as Snape picked out 'proper clothing' for him to try on. When the pile was sufficient, he followed Snape to the dressing rooms, grabbing t-shirts as he went. Snape had only chosen polo's and button-ups, and Harry would be damned if he didn't have some comfortable t-shirts as well. Luckily, they'd been to Gladrags first for his teaching robes, so they had his new measurements. When he'd tried on all of the clothes, Snape removing some from the pile based on color or how they fit, they moved to the checkout counter. There they ran into the last group of people Harry had ever wanted to see. His hopes that they wouldn't recognize the new him were dashed by his companion.

"Would you hurry up and pay for your purchases, Potter, instead of staring like a dumbstruck buffoon?" Snape snapped from beside him. Harry handed his card to the clerk as his relatives turned to look at him in surprise.

"What happened to you, Freak?" Dudley said, walking over with his parents on his heels.

"It's called a growth spurt and contacts. You haven't seen me since my 16th birthday," Harry said, standing to his full height. He was now a quarter inch taller than his cousin and uncle, towering over his 5'4 aunt. "How have you been, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon?"

Vernon turned a nasty shade of red and didn't respond as Harry flicked his long hair back from his face, flexing his bigger arm muscles. Petunia, however, gaped in shock at something over Harry's shoulder.

"Severus?"

Snape sneered at the horse-like woman. "Petunia." He acknowledged, grabbing some of Harry's bags. "Excuse us, Potter and I must be going. Come, Potter."

Harry smirked at his family. "Coming, Professor Snape," he said, grabbing the rest of his bags. "I guess I'll see you around." He followed the path Snape had taken to exit the store, but Dudley stopped him before he reached the doors.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes. Dudley had always behaved as though any building he occupied were his. "Shopping. I needed new clothes for my job as a teacher. Professor Snape was under the impression that the clothes you so graciously handed down to me belonged to a humpback whale, and insisted I buy a proper wardrobe with the vast fortune my parents left me." With that he turned and left the shop, with Dudley fuming behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry took a bite of his sandwich as he continued to read the papers in his lap. He was sitting in a plush armchair, with his legs folded in the seat, in the Teacher's Lounge. As he dipped his quill in the inkpot that sat on the small table beside him, the door to the lounge opened to admit McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick.

"Harry, you were missed by your friends at lunch," Flitwick said as McGonagall and Sprout moved three chairs closer to Harry's. "Have you been in here since your morning classes ended?"

Harry looked at the short professor. "Yes, sir. I had all of the Second and Third Year classes this morning, so I decided to quiz them, see if they'd gathered anything of use from the last couple of Defense professors. I've been grading their quizzes and the answer seems to be a resounding 'no' in nearly every case. I'm looking forward to the First Years this afternoon, since they're practically blank slates."

McGonagall nodded wisely. "Just be sure to engage them, Mister Potter. I've never quite been able to make my lectures interesting, but I know that if you can find some way to capture their attention, you'll have more success."

"Well, this week I'm just doing preliminary lessons, finding out where interests lie and such," Harry said, setting aside his sandwich. "Starting next week I'm going to start a randomized routine to keep the class awake. The Headmaster already approved it. With the Fifth Years and above, I'll be attacking them at random with minor stinging hex's and such, and Fourth Year down will have varied experiences, from explosive noises to projected images of vicious Dark creatures. I found the spell when I was trying to find a solution to being unable to expose the students to certain creatures. It will not only project the image, but it makes it seem like the creature is actually there unless I cancel the spell or it's attacked with a defense spell that will usually drive the real thing off. The only difference is that it can't actually hurt the students."

"That sounds rather intriguing, Mister Potter," Sprout commented as she poured tea for the three professors. Harry grinned at the praise.

"So, Mister Potter, might I inquire as to your teaching method for the various years?" Flitwick asked, settling into the armchair to his left.

Harry took another bite of his sandwich as he thought about how to summarize the extensive lessons. He swallowed and blushed as McGonagall and Sprout looked at him expectantly. "Er, well because of the difference in importance, and of course taking into account the OWLs and NEWTs, I started with the preliminary decision that Fourth Years and below will have a major focus in Dark Creatures, while Fifth and above will concentrate more on honing their defensive spells. Of course, there's a good bit of mingling for both, but despite my own experiences it isn't very common for Fourth Years to encounter Dark Wizards, where as Dark Creatures can be found in the simplest of places, like the back garden. The only problem is the texts. It's one of the reasons I've made this week a test week. Professor Snape gave me a catalogue from Flourish and Blotts, but there isn't a single Defense text that has all of the areas I want to cover for any year. At best, all of the students will have to cart around _two_ texts for my class, and they aren't cheap."

The three professors considered this as the door to the lounge opened once more to admit a few more of their colleagues. "Which books, Harry?" Sprout asked.

Harry reached into his bag and withdrew the catalogue. "Well, there's one separate book for each year, since their advancement should be accommodated better, and one large tome for all of the years that would help me best with my practical lessons."

Sprout nodded. "Yes, I see. Why not put in a requisition order to the Board for the larger text? You could keep the books in the classroom and hand them out as needed. If the students wished to study the text further, then you can ask Albus to put the title on the list, but optional."

Harry nodded, thinking about this. "That's a good idea. Thank you, Professor Sprout. I had been thinking about the case where the students may need further practice, but now that I really consider it, it's best they practice the spells in the classroom, during their breaks or something. Remus is going to be there provisionally while I have classes in any case, so it's not like the students will have an excuse _not_ to practice."

"Very good, Harry. I must say that I'm amazed at how well you're adjusting to this. You're already sounding like us old hats," Flitwick chuckled in his squeaky tone. The other two Professors chuckled as well, and Harry grinned with a little embarrassment.

"I don't know what it is, I just feel like this is what I'm supposed to do," He confided.

McGonagall nodded in understanding. "It's the sign of a good teacher, Mister Potter. But you must be wary, and adjust to the ebb and flow of your students, or you risk becoming jaded towards them, like a certain dour Potions Master."

"I am not _jaded_ , Minerva," Snape scowled as he leaned against the side of Harry's chair. The four of them started at his sudden, silent appearance. "It is not my fault that the students seem to get even more illogical each year."

Harry snickered and finished off his sandwich as Snape stole one of the biscuits from McGonagall's tea plate. "They do seem a bit like the dunderheads you always accused us of being. I can't imagine ever having been so stubbornly reluctant to learn new information, but from helping you grade it's obvious that the majority of the students have a mental block against education in general. Still, the challenge of trying to interest them enough to surpass that stubborn refusal is a lot of fun."

Snape grimaced. "Indeed."

Harry chuckled as the look was mirrored by the other professors seated around them and began to pack away his things. "Excuse me, Professors, I have to go and make sure Remus hasn't driven the Imps to the point of destroying my classroom before the First Years start to arrive, and I should check the protective wards as well. I'll see you in class, Professor Snape." He stood and started to sidle around his chair, but stopped just as he made it out of the circle. "Er, did you talk to Poppy about the laceration salve? I've done my very best to ensure anything sharp or heavy was out of their reach, but the Imps just seem to produce projectiles out of thin air."

Snape nodded. "I spoke with her before I came here, and she said she'd put together a case for you, which I will pick up on my way to your classroom."

Harry grinned gratefully. "Thanks. I'd have asked Remus, but for some reason he's become convinced she'll strap him to a bed for days of tests if he sets foot in the Hospital Wing. Bye, Professors, I'll see you tonight at the staff meeting." He left quickly, exchanging a hive-five with Hagrid as he left.

His professors watched him go as Snape settled into the chair he'd just vacated. "That lad never fails to amaze me," Sprout said, sipping her tea.

McGonagall smiled in agreement and turned to Snape. "Have you told him yet?"

The Potions Master shook his head, his lank raven hair swishing with the movement. "I had hoped to surprise him with the news when it gets closer to the actual time. To tell him now could put too much pressure on him, despite Albus' reassurances that he was more than qualified this last Sunday."

"However did you get Lucius to agree to give up Draco's spot?" Flitwick asked.

Snape smirked secretly as he produced a book from an inside pocket and immersed himself in it. The other three professors had known him long enough to quickly realize that this was all the response they would get and returned to discussing their pride in the newest member of the staff. Quickly, the discussion deteriorated into a playful argument over just who had seen the potential first.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry groaned as he collapsed on his back onto the couch, vaguely aware that his head was resting on something lumpy as he rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes.

"What has you so upset, Mister Potter?"

Harry yelped. "Merlin's shorts!" He shouted in surprise as he threw himself into a sitting position. "How long have you been here?"

Snape shrugged. "You said you would speak to me in your rooms after your study session with Miss Granger," He said simply, smoothing out the wrinkles that Harry's head had left in his pants leg. "Considering the amount of help you've given me in my grading, I finished early and decided to wait for you here. I didn't think you would mind, but perhaps I was wrong."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's perfectly alright, you just nearly gave me a heart attack is all. I didn't expect to see you until after dinner. I hope I didn't bruise your leg when I threw myself down like that."

"Not at all. Though I am curious what has you so upset to have done so, as I asked before," Snape told him, setting aside a book he had been holding.

Harry huffed and slumped against the back of the couch. "Ten minutes into our study session, Ron came storming over to our table in the library. He started ranting, and I was lucky Madame Pince has taken a shine to me as a Probationary Professor, or the entire group would've been kicked out. It took me five minutes to get Ron out into the corridor, and I only managed that by dragging him away bodily. He was apparently very upset about the grade he got on his preliminary test, felt I was grading him unfairly based on recent events. Not to mention he's become convinced that I'm homosexual and blames me for his sister's relationship with Luna. In the end I had to give out my first detention as a Professor, and take twenty points from Gryffindor, for 'disrespect', and I wasn't even sure I could do that. As a probationary professor can I give out detentions for someone shouting in my face and calling me a perverted fag?"

"Of course," Snape answered immediately. "Just because you're a student in classes, that doesn't mean you lose your rights outside of your class. Think of it as though you were Head Boy. Did you happen to mention to Mister Weasley that you are not in charge of actually grading any of the papers for Seventh Year, due to this exact circumstance?"

Harry smirked. "I explained that to the entire class before the lesson even started, and didn't feel the need to repeat myself. I'm sure Remus will explain it to him during his detention after dinner. Apparently, he takes personal offense when I'm insulted, and doubly so when homosexuals in general are insulted at the same time." His smirk slowly slid off his face. "Is it odd that I only just this moment realized that I have a lot of gay friends?"

"Not if their preference doesn't affect you in some way, no," Snape assured him. "Did you wish to discuss tomorrow's plans? Minerva told me she gave you the information we would need to organize everything in the Great Hall before the Seventh Years arrive."

Harry nodded and, with effort, moved off of his couch to get the information from his bag. "I have to say, I didn't think she'd agree with my 'give them a chance to have the time to learn with supervision' campaign. I mean, Dumbledore was an easy sell for the Great Hall, but I expected McGonagall to argue in favor of more grades before she gave us a list." He walked back to the couch while he studied the parchment pages. "This is the list of spells we'll need to cast on the doors to keep all the ones who have an animagus form from exiting before they change back, and the spell for turning one of the walls into a mirror. These two are the list of students who are eligible for the spell, and she gave us a preliminary structure on how to explain to the students exactly what we'll be doing. She acquired it from Albus, who apparently held a similar lesson back when he was teaching. She fully expects us to rewrite it entirely, since the lesson is supposed to be based in how Animagi can be used for Defense, but she thought it would give us a good idea of what to expect."

"And this last page?" Snape asked, flipping through them as Harry explained each piece.

"A rough draft of how I'd like to begin the lesson. It isn't finished, and it seems a little awkward to me, but I thought you'd want to look at it. To be honest, I'm really not sure how to approach the students in this case, since it's a voluntary lesson. At first I thought I'd talk to them like I did in DA, but this is a much larger audience, because even those who aren't on the list will probably show up, and I have to keep in mind that I'm technically an authority figure. More importantly, I have to make sure the Seventh Years are aware of that," Harry told the man, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Snape nodded, looking over the indelicate scrawl. "It seems sound, with only a few errors. Do you mind if I make some changes before we discuss it?"

"Feel free," Harry told him, summoning his quill and ink from the desk in the corner. Snape took the implements and used his book to support the parchment on the arm of the couch, setting the inkwell on the end table. The younger wizard leaned his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the scratch of the quill. He was exhausted; he studied well into the night, then woke up at dawn every morning to workout, so he could be sure he had time enough to prepare before his classes. Despite his fears that he wouldn't pass, Harry was already wishing there were some way to take his NEWTs early. After only a week of test lessons, he was realizing quickly why Hermione was exhausted in Third Year even with the Time Turner - mental taxation took its toll.

"Potter?"

Harry stirred and opened his eyes. The first thing he realized was that Snape was above him, the second thing was why. He sat up quickly, blushing. "I am so sorry, Professor, I don't really know how that happened."

Snape only looked at him in concern. "Potter, you were practically comatose for the last half hour, and your concern is that your head somehow wound up in my lap? Why are you so tired?"

Harry shook his head. "Mostly because I've been studying for my NEWTs at the same time as making time for office hours and grading. I'm really glad I gave up Quidditch this year, or I'd be dead on my broom," He said lightly, smiling. Snape only continued to watch him and Harry sighed. "It's also in part because of this bullshit with Ron. Between playing mediator for Ginny and 'Mione, and not outright kicking his ass for the snide comments he makes under his breath every time Seamus or Neville walk past him, I've been having trouble relaxing even a bit. Last night McGonagall had to come get me to help pull Dean off of Ron, because apparently when Ron found out about Ginny he made some horrible comment that none of the blokes cared to repeat. If it continues, I fear that I'll have to bring Mrs. Weasley into the picture, and of course that's stressing me out because it might just exacerbate the situation. Then there's this new shit he's started with me that I'd rather not get into, all because he thinks I'm gay. I've actually started having bad dreams about some of the shit he's been doing and saying, and it's only been a week."

Snape seemed to consider him carefully. "Do you mind if I ask why Mister Weasley has begun targeting you?"

Harry hesitated, but knew that if he wanted help he'd need to 'fess up. "You remember when I told you and the Headmaster last weekend how all of us found out about Ron's homophobic tendencies, and our fears that he was the perpetrator behind that prank last term?" Snape nodded. "Well, the whole thing started when I was showing Hermione and Ginny my new look. Ron said I looked gay with long hair. I realized he was trying to mend broken fences, but there was just something about the way he said it that rubbed me wrong. I asked him if he had a problem with homosexuals, and he said that it didn't matter, it wasn't like I was one. When I didn't immediately agree, at least with the second part, I guess he assumed."

"Are you?" Snape asked calmly.

Harry groaned. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He stood up and walked to his fireplace to get it going. "I don't _know_ , and I don't really think it matters. I haven't really put any thought into it. I mean, I was a little preoccupied with the whole 'maniac seeking my death' thing for a few years, and since then I haven't thought about relationships in general, let alone what I prefer. It just didn't seem important. For all I know, I'm asexual, or bisexual, or whatever. I've never had a sex dream about anyone, and until last week I didn't even feel the need to," He paused, blushing as he poked his wand at the logs in the grate. "You know."

"Do you think that has anything to do with the Retexamus Neglectu?"

"Maybe…There was never any sexual abuse in my childhood, but I guess it's possible that I became so repressed that my sex drive was affected. Is that even possible?"

Snape nodded. "In some cases, when you take into account outstanding circumstance, like undue mental and emotional stress even when removed from the abuse, the sex drive can be severely…shriveled."

Harry smirked and looked over at the older wizard. "Shriveled? Is that a technical term?"

Snape glared in response, but Harry could see the smirk he was trying to hide. "In any case," The Potions Master began, "What you're experiencing is normal, and not nearly the crisis adolescents tend to make of it. You shouldn't let it stress you out, you'll know when you know."

Harry smiled gratefully and moved back to his couch. "Thanks, that actually helps a bit. But it doesn't solve my problem. I can't keep up with my classes and NEWTs if I'm constantly having to worry about Ron." The young wizard sighed. "I know I should write to Mrs. Weasley, but I'm worried that she'll say it's just adolescent teasing. Or worse, what if Ron finds out it was me who sent the letter? That could create a whole string of new problems."

Snape put a hand on his shoulder. "Potter…you should have come forward with all of this sooner. If not to me, you could have gone to Albus or Remus, even your old Head of House. _I_ will write the letter to Molly – she'll take it more seriously if I do it – but I want to know why you haven't spoken of this to anyone before now. No one expects you to handle all of this on your own. All of us had to seek help when we first became teachers, and with you still taking classes we _expect_ you to come to us."

Harry nodded. "I know that, but I didn't really know how to broach this thing with Ron. He hasn't actually _done_ much of anything, it's mostly just threats. But it's gotten to the point that I lay awake imagining what new thing he's going to do or say to my friends or me tomorrow. I thought of talking to you or McGonagall, but in the end decided against it since it isn't just me, and none of the other lads have spoken out. I figured he'd cool it after a few days, anyway, but if anything he's gotten worse in the last week. I think moving him out of the dorm and into his own room in Gryffindor might have been the wrong move."

Snape gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "There's nothing we can do about that now. Moving him back could make things worse, and moving him out of the tower is just going to make him target your friends even more viciously when he sees them. I will speak with the Headmaster concerning Mister Weasley on your behalf, and pen the letter to Molly after I leave here. I'll even have Minerva add her own comments concerning things that have happened in the dorms. For now, that's all we can do."

"Thank you, Sir, for your help, and for listening to me about all of this," Harry said, smiling at the man gratefully. "Now let's get this upcoming _en masse_ lesson planned out so I can try to get a nap in before dinner."

Snape smirked and moved forward on the couch, laying out the stack of parchment on the coffee table so they could concentrate on the structuring. "Last I checked, my name is not 'sir'. You have done so before, and I've rather gotten used to it, so you may call me by my surname outside of my class. Now, your idea to have some of the students help organize has merit, but all of the ones that you could convince Minerva or myself to trust are on the list, so it's not reasonable…"

Harry studied the Potions Master as the man explained the typical structure professor's used when substituting and how that method would probably work best for their endeavor. He was doing his best to remain neutrally uninvolved beyond his current friendships, but the entire staff seemed determined to make him feel like one of them. Snape, in particular, had become Harry's major challenge when he thought of his relationship with the people he still had as teachers. The man was obstinate in making Harry not only feel accepted, but like a friend, and Harry was struggling to keep the image of the Potions Master as only that of his teacher in the face of this invitation.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry cleared his throat as McGonagall gestured for him to start with a secret, proud smile on her usually stern face. Slowly, the assembled Fifth through Seventh Years quieted themselves to utter silence in the bleachers Albus had set up for the lesson.

"As I'm sure most of you are aware, only a small number of you have achieved the grades and shown the proper responsibility to be tested for an animagus form. The rest of you are here so that you may witness the result of hard study and good behavior. You see, even though some of the participants may not in fact have a form as yet, because whatever circumstance has left their souls unsure of the shape, this is an incredible opportunity, one that can take years to achieve outside of Hogwarts due to the waiting lists involved with the officials who typically run these tests. For the Sixth Years and under, this is mere example, and in the next year or so perhaps you can improve in the eyes of Professor McGonagall enough to be included. For the Seventh Years, Professor McGonagall has agreed to test those who show a marked improvement near the end of the year, excepting of course those who do not sign the legally binding waiver to register with the Ministry when they master the transformation. I have been informed by Professor McGonagall that everyone who has been chosen for the test received notification last night, correct?" Harry spoke, his voice echoing succinctly in the quiet Great Hall. He saw 30 students out of the 70 Seventh Years raise up the notes Snape and McGonagall had handed out the night before. He grinned, not really realizing there were so many who'd qualified. "Brilliant, any questions before we start?"

Everyone shrugged and muttered in the negative, but one angry voice came from the crowd. "Why are the majority of your choices poofters and Slytherins, Potter?"

Harry frowned and glanced at Snape, who nodded subtly. He looked Ron in the eye with his best glare. "They aren't, Mister Weasley. For one, that's twenty points from Gryffindor for vulgar language, don't let me catch you using that word again, and for two, these are the most qualified participants. I'm sorry if you're upset that your grades _and_ behavior didn't recommend you, but I don't see how the rest of us should suffer for your bad attitude. If you don't have any pertinent questions, then keep your mouth shut. Now, does anyone have anything actually intelligent to ask?"

To no one's surprise, Hermione raised her hand. "Will the spell hurt if we have a form?"

McGonagall stepped forward. "The test is actually designed to prevent the pain normally associated with the transformation, because it allows the soul to take the shape it feels best represents you. When you perform the transformation for the first time without ever using this spell, it hurts because you're basically ripping the information from the deepest part of yourself and forcing your body to accept it. The test allows your soul to instantly connect with your mind and body in such a succinct way that when your magic takes the shape, your body is simply following suit. Does everyone understand this?" The assembled students gave mumbles and nods in agreement. "Then let us begin. Mister Potter has volunteered to show you what will be happening so you might be prepared for it, and then I want those who qualified to stand in front of the mirror on the other side of the Hall. The rest of you, don't get any ideas, there is a line that will prevent anyone who wasn't approved from approaching the mirror, and when you don't make it, points will be lost and you will have detention. Now watch carefully as I perform the spell on Mister Potter."

"What makes him qualified? He's been as bad as most of us!" Ron Weasley cried out, his voice hard with barely contained fury.

"That is incorrect, Mister Weasley," Snape said darkly. "Professor Potter has not performed any directly disobedient or irresponsible acts besides one since the start of this term, and even I took notice that he displayed nothing beyond typical adolescent cluelessness last term. If he were as misbehaved as you claim, he would never have been given a probationary position amongst the staff. Take your seat or remove yourself from this lesson. Now."

Ron sniffed in indignance, but sat down and said nothing further. Harry frowned at Snape. "It wasn't cluelessness, just curiosity…but thank you, Professor Snape. Ready when you are, Professor McGonagall."

The entire room held its breath as the Gryffindor Head of House raised her wand and pointed it at the Boy Saviour. After a moment, a soft white fog flowed from her wand to Harry and surrounded him before sinking into his skin. A full minute passed with no change in the young man. A cruel laugh echoed in the hall.

"Ickle Potter, even his soul is too stupid to pick a shape," Ron yelled joyfully. A quick glare from Snape silenced him.

"This is no laughing matter," McGonagall spoke. "If his soul had rejected the test, the white light would have faded, not been absorbed."

"Then why hasn't he changed?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry grimaced suddenly in pain and doubled over. Within a moment, the white light surrounded him again, hiding his body from sight as his pained scream echoed in the hall, turning to a loud roar halfway through.

"He has a magical form," McGonagall whispered as the light disappeared to reveal a Griffin. The lion hybrid panted heavily, his rumbling breaths creating small sparks as his lizard-like tail whipped around in agitation. "This happens rarely, when the soul cannot decide on its form because it does not have only one. Notice the coloring on his hind legs, where his fur imitates the patterns of the badger. Mister Potter is no ordinary Griffin, students, his soul embodies the truth of the four Founders of Hogwarts."

Hermione whimpered as the Griffin continued to huff in pain. "But why did he scream, why is he in pain? You said it wouldn't hurt."

McGonagall shook her head. "This is such an unlikely occurrence that there was no reason to think it would happen. Mister Potter was in pain because his body had to be infused with his magic, every cell had to be given immediate knowledge of the form. Though it hurts terribly, as you've just witnessed, Mister Potter will now be able to change at will, and without practice, sometimes without even meaning to in moments of severe distress. He is also exempt from registration with the ministry, as magical animagi are impossible to track."

"Is he gonna change back?" Seamus asked nervously. The rest of the assembly murmured in agreement with the question.

"Yes, but it may take a few moments, because his mind has to adjust to the change, and allow the pain to disperse entirely. In the meantime, would those who wish to participate come to stand before the mirror?"

The Griffin watched with heavy-lidded eyes as the 30 students who'd been approved moved across the hall to the long mirror he and Snape had conjured. He felt his four legs tremble beneath him as his joints adjusted to the pain and his muscles slowly relaxed. Calming his breathing, he realized he had to turn back, or he'd pass out in his new form. Unsure what that might do to him, he concentrated on returning to his body's natural state. Just as McGonagall prepared to cast the spell on the others, he regained his own two feet and promptly felt his legs collapse from beneath him. Before he could hit the ground, Snape was at his side, holding him up, and McGonagall was looking at him with deep concern.

"Sorry, legs aren't cooperating," He said sheepishly as the participants turned to look at him as well. "Go on, I'm fine," The young Defense instructor insisted. Harry wrapped his arm around the thin, broad shoulders of the Potions Master and forced his legs to hold him upright, at least a bit, as he leaned heavily on the taller wizard.

After a long moment of indecision, McGonagall turned back to the assembled Seventh Years and cast the charm. The white light absorbed into all but one, a Hufflepuff, and immediately people began changing. When they'd all finished, there stood four rabbits, six cats, a horse, two foxes, seven dogs, three assorted birds, two insects, three snakes, and a ferret. Harry couldn't help but snicker at Malfoy's misfortune, and he felt Snape's shoulders shake in silent mirth. The Hufflepuff who hadn't changed at all laughed outright at the Malfoy heir, triggering the audience to release their own chuckles, and even making McGonagall smile. The assorted animals began regaining their form and Draco wore a look of devastation as he regained his own human form. The group retook their seats.

"If anyone would like to further pursue becoming an animagus, I will be offering lessons at this time the first and third Sunday of every month," McGonagall announced over the crowds tittering. "You are dismissed." Immediately, the students began filing out.

Harry reached out a heavy arm as Draco passed him. "Malfoy, it's not real." The Slytherin turned and glared at him. "I was reading up on animagi, Malfoy. Crouch's spell must've hit you in a moment of great crisis, when your soul was in the midst of deciding who you were. There's a spell that McGonagall can perform on you to make your soul forget that form, forcing it to find a new one, better suited to who you really are. Come to the classes, after McGonagall has performed the spell, and you'll have your real animagus form. I'll talk to McGonagall about testing you when enough time has passed for the spell to take effect. You should be able to attend the lessons with everyone else in a month or so."

Malfoy smiled hopefully. "You're sure, Potter?"

Harry nodded, his arm falling limply to his side. "Yeah; the only real ferret in our year is the guy who gave you that nickname in the first place, and I doubt Weasley will ever be strong-willed enough to manage a transformation. Speak with Professor McGonagall tomorrow, yeah? Tell her I sent you and why."

Malfoy nodded gratefully and left the Great Hall with the rest of the students.

Snape shifted Harry, wrapping his arm more securely around his waist. "We should get you to your room, Potter, before you collapse." Harry nodded and let the Potions Master lead him out of the Great Hall. "That was a good thing you did, Potter. I was going to speak with Mister Malfoy about his form tomorrow, but I think he believed it more coming from you."

Harry shrugged. "Wish I could do more. He's gonna have the mickey taken out of him for this, unless we can find some way to make the students see the truth."

Snape smirked. "The Slytherins will all know and understand by sunrise tomorrow, and Mister Malfoy is very capable of dealing with the rest of the school. Perhaps being teased by his peers will humble him a bit. You don't have to save everyone from every cruel thing in this world, Mister Potter. "

Harry grinned tiredly. "Force of habit, Snape." The older wizard rolled his eyes at the cheeky statement and they shuffled back to Harry's quarters in a comfortable silence.

When Harry was safely ensconced in his bed, he sighed as Snape came in with a cup of tea. "I know tea is the English cure-all, but I'd much rather have a coffee," He said, smirking.

Snape glared at him half-heartedly. "That much caffeine after what just happened could send your muscles into shock."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know, doesn't make me want it any less, though. You've got to teach me that spell you used to change my clothes."

The Potions Master sat on the edge of the bed. "When you've rested, I'll think about it," He said dismissively, propping Harry up so he could sip at the warm tea.

When Harry had his fill, he leaned back against his pillows, chuckling lightly. "I just realized that we spent yet another full Sunday together. Third one in a row, we're beginning to make it a habit." Snape smirked. "Think we should give up pretense and just start setting Sundays aside for each other?"

The Potions Master shook his head in exasperation. "We only spent half the day together, Mister Potter, and the majority of that was with Minerva as we set up the wards and preparations."

Harry shrugged. "Same thing. Do you think I'll be well enough for my classes tomorrow?"

Snape nodded. "You should be. I'll have Poppy check on you in the morning."

The boy wonder groaned. "Couldn't you do it? I love the Hospital Matron dearly, but if I so much as cough while she's here she'll probably force me to be bedridden the entire week." He looked at the Potions Master with his best puppy eyes. The man sighed.

"I will see about checking up on you myself, Mister Potter, if I don't have any other duties that require my immediate attention. Now sleep, so that I may leave, and so you can return to your annoyingly cheerful self tomorrow," The ex-Death Eater commanded lightly.

Harry grinned and closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion he felt to his bones wash over him. "See you tomorrow, Snape. Thanks for helping me."

The man grunted noncommittally and left as Harry began to drift into slumber.


	14. Chapter 14

Harry was much recovered the following day and returned to his routine with a greater respect from his peers and students for this new thing that set him apart. Remus, having spoken with Snape, approached him a few days later and informed him that he, the werewolf, would be taking on half of the DADA office hours. This news was followed by a sudden influx of "personal projects" from Harry's instructor's that he recognized as the homework from the second half of term. Thinking his professors were simply making his second semester an easier trial, he took it in stride. Several weeks passed with little change in Ron's behavior, but Harry found himself coping better after his talk with Snape, and the boy had become at least more subtle about his cruelty after a venomous howler from his mum. Despite Snape brushing off Harry's comments about them spending Sunday together, the two had managed to do so regularly, grading papers or working with another professor to set up the Saturday lessons that would begin in the next semester.

Harry walked into Snape's office for one such session. "Flitwick said he'll have to reschedule our meeting for tea-time, instead. One of the Sixth Years botched a Gargantuan Charm and he's stuck trying to figure out how to deflate the poor cat she'd targeted. I know you said you wanted to meet in my office, but I thought I'd come down here and see if I could help with anything. I haven't done my hours at all this last week."

Snape didn't look up from the papers he was grading. "I believe I told you that it wasn't necessary for you to continue performing your hours. Especially as the rest of your professor's and I have been giving you double homework so you may take your NEWT's early."

Harry groaned. "That's why I like the hours, the homework is- Wait," He sat up suddenly from the slouch he'd been sinking into, eyes wide with wonder. "Did you just say 'take my NEWTs early'? I thought there weren't any slots left?"

The Potions Master did look up now, an amused smirk dancing across his features. "Your test date is in 2 weeks, on Boxing Day. I spoke with Lucius Malfoy about recommending his son for an apprenticeship with Master Han-Sho, but I mentioned that Han does not take on an apprentice in the middle of term. Lucius agreed to sign the slot over to you, so long as you promise to come to him with any further investment ideas, and Draco agreed that you deserved it more. It would seem your ingredient preparation lessons have not only reflected in higher grades amongst the students and less exploding cauldrons, but they've also given Lucius a more respected and less feared standing within the Board of Governors."

"That's brilliant, Professor! I'll have the full first week of Christmas Break to study," Harry grinned. "Thank you so much for this opportunity!"

Snape's smirk fell to a stern look as he huffed indignantly. "Nonsense, Mister Potter, it was a business venture on my part. Lucius will be more willing to hear further ideas about improving the Potions program now. And don't think you're going to get away with a full week cram, Potter. You've been given an incredible opportunity, and I won't see you screw it up. You may spend two hours every day of the first week of Christmas break to study, but if I must keep you down here to prevent you doing more, then I will. Am I understood?"

Harry blushed bashfully. "I understand, Sir." He hesitated, then spoke rapidly. "I was actually going to ask if I could come scrub cauldrons or prepare ingredients over Christmas Break. My friends are leaving, but I heard that Ron opted to stay."

Snape glanced at him. "Why do you wish to hide from Mister Weasley? I thought you'd said he'd become less vicious in the last few weeks."

"He has, no doubt," Harry said, shrugging. "But with just the one target, me, do you really think he'll continue in that trend for two full weeks? Especially knowing he'll have to contend with me as a full-fledged teacher when the students come back?"

"So confident you'll pass, Potter?" Snape asked, smirking.

Harry frowned. "I'm not, but he will be, or at least he'll take measures in the case I do pass, anyway. So what do you say? You can't possibly want to spend the whole Christmas Break hidden away, alone in these dungeons."

Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before finally meeting Harry's pleading gaze. "You may spend the Break down here on one condition, and if you succeed, I'll even offer my guest room to you." Harry leaned forward eagerly. "You have to transform, fully, into your animagus for McGonagall's lesson later today, where you and I have been asked to demonstrate the use of animagi in defensive maneuvers."

Ignoring the fact that he was only just finding out about the demonstration, Harry grinned. "Okay, you're on. This'll be a piece of cake, since McGonagall said I should be able to transform at will."

Snape smirked at him mischievously. "We shall see, Mister Potter. Reportedly, a magical animagus struggles with their first unassisted transformation because of the body's memory of the pain that was involved via the test. The majority has to transform accidentally before they trust their body enough to be able to change flawlessly and with intent."

Harry shrugged and leaned back confidently, but on the inside he started to worry. He'd managed to forget about the massive amount of pain he'd been in last time, all of his work keeping him from thinking about it for any real length of time. He wondered if perhaps the sudden recall of the agony would do as Snape said and keep him from transforming, and hoped the incentive would be greater than the muscle memory.

SSHP

McGonagall's Animagi lesson had been moved onto the front lawn of the school, where an elaborate obstacle course had been set up, as well as a massive warming charm over the benches where the students sat. Placed sporadically in the course were dummies that would fire off spells at random. Harry and Severus were given the task of destroying the dummies and moving through the course, all without being hit. Snape transformed quickly into an overly large black panther, large paws sinking into the thick layer of snow on the ground, and Harry glared at him when the large cat looked at him expectantly.

'This shouldn't be too difficult, I'm supposed to be able to do it on instinct…' Harry thought determinedly. He blocked off thoughts of the severe pain he'd felt the last time, concentrating on an image of him curled up in his animagus form in front of Snape's fireplace. Almost immediately, he felt his body changing without any pain. When he opened his eyes, he sent a feline smirk at his companion as he folded his wings firmly against his back.

Suddenly, there was a new presence in his mind. _"Race you, Potter."_

Harry turned to the obstacle course and crouched, ready to pounce. _"You're on, Snape."_

As soon as they heard McGonagall's whistle, the two over-large cats took off into the course. Harry dodged this way and that, using is wings to assist in some of the wider gaps. When he reached the first dummy, he dodged spells, feeling one whizz uncomfortably close to his fur. When he was close enough, he pounced on the wooden figure, ripping through its head with his powerful claws.

" _You'll never win that way, Potter,"_ Snape's voiced chimed playfully.

Harry looked over to see Snape pouncing past him lightly. He bared his fangs in a grin and took off after the Potions Master. They both took out their second "attacker" together, and raced along, neck and neck until they came to a large chasm that McGonagall had commissioned the twins to create. Harry leapt into the air easily, soaring above it with his wings as Snape came to a skidding halt at the edge.

" _What was that you said about winning, Snape?"_ He thought triumphantly.

A black blur raced past him, and he looked in surprise at the winged black panther. _"I believe I said that you wouldn't."_

Harry growled and tucked his wings in close as he dove for the other side of the canyon, landing only seconds before Snape did, and without even half as much grace. The two magical animagi leapt and raced through the course gleefully, neither one pulling ahead for long. Finally, they reached the end of the course, where Harry was caught off guard as Snape leaped over him. As he watched Snape land gracefully on the other side of him, he felt a sudden pain in his left forepaw right before he went tumbling to the ground, sliding the last ten feet to the finish line.

He grinned at Snape, who crossed behind him, but stopped as soon as he realized Snape was no longer concerned with their race and was staring off in the direction the spell had come from. Harry turned, but saw nothing, though he caught a familiar scent on the air. After a moment, he realized the concern…there was no dummy. He looked at Snape in confusion as the man approached him.

Snape huffed and snuffled at his injured paw before licking the appendage. If lions could have blushed, Harry would've been a bright red as the Potions Master pushed his forehead against Harry's in a show of concern. After a final nosing of the injured paw, the man returned to his human form and walked over to Minerva, who was explaining to the students that they would each be allowed to run the course when they felt confident with their animal forms. Harry pushed himself up and felt himself begin to transform back as he stared at his hand thoughtfully. It had only been a mild cutting hex, nothing that couldn't be cured, but he felt somehow sure that the spell had been intended to do a lot more damage. He looked around one last time before getting up to join his fellow professors.

By the time he reached them, McGonagall was already leading the students back inside for their practice session, and Snape was waiting for him with concern written across his face. Harry showed the man his hand, and the older wizard took it in his, studying the damage.

"I don't think the caster meant for it to be as shallow as it was," The Defense instructor muttered. "Their aim must've been off, or my form has a natural defense. The smell, though…the spell, had it done what it was meant to, should have nearly severed my hand, and I could smell something familiar on the wind, a scent I can't quite place."

"Ginger snaps and pumpkin pasties, I smelled it as well. Do you know whose scent that is?" Snape asked as he healed the shallow gash across the back of Harry's hand.

The younger wizard thought about it, thinking of what the smell reminded him of, and scowled. "I slept next to that smell for six years; I can't believe I didn't recognize it immediately."

Snape released his hand. "It takes a while for your mind to adjust to the changes in your senses when in your animagus form. Smell, especially, is a lot sharper, and can take longer for your mind to process at first. Can you prove that it was him?"

Harry shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. The smell was too vague, and even if we confiscated his wand, he could have any number of reasons to excuse the use of such a common spell."

Snape frowned and began to lead the way back towards the castle. "We will have to be more watchful, I doubt this will be the last time Mister Weasley attempts an attack. I hate to reiterate your sentiments from a few weeks ago, but thank Merlin you gave up Quidditch this year."

Harry smirked. "No kidding. So, wings?"

"You didn't think you were the only magical animagus in the school, did you?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shivered, though it had nothing to do with the cold. "Whatever," He said dismissively as he walked ahead of the older wizard. He turned and smirked. "I still won." He commented, walking backwards.

Snape's lips turned up in a challenging smile. "You think so? Would you like to prove it?"

"How?" Harry asked apprehensively.

The man sped up his pace, looking around and verifying that no students were outside. "Race you to the front steps."

Harry grinned and turned, running towards the front of the castle almost two hundred feet ahead. He laughed as the Potions Master pulled in front of him almost immediately on his longer legs, and pushed himself to move faster, staying just behind the man. As they grew closer to the front steps, he threw himself into Snape's legs, tackling him to the ground. They rolled across the snowy lawn, both laughing playfully. When they finally stopped rolling, Snape was on top, pinning Harry in the snow. After a second, he rolled over to lie beside the wizarding savior.

"What was it that you told me about professor's behaving like wild animals?" Harry asked smugly as he gasped for breath.

Snape chuckled breathlessly. "It was intended for behavior in view of the students. However, when there are no students around," Cold fingers brushed hair from Harry's cheek as the man leaned up on his elbow to look deeply into radiant green orbs. "We can behave however we like."

Harry blushed as Snape's black eyes raked over his body. "Yes, well…" He stretched an arm above his head and rolled onto his side as well. "I win again." He followed Snape's gaze as it traveled up his arm to his fingers, pressed firmly against the stone edge of the first step leading to the castle.

Snape sighed and lay back on the snow as Harry chuckled boastfully. "Alright, what does the competitive new Defense professor want in return for beating out an old man?"

"One, you're not old, you're barely forty, and two," Harry poked the man's ribs. "Who challenged whom?"

"I will concede that I gave the challenge, but I would like to point out that it was you who tackled _me_ to the ground," The Potions Master sniffed indignantly. "Now, what do you want?"

The wizarding savior hummed thoughtfully and leaned towards his companion, placing a hand on the man's chest as he whispered against his ear. "I want you…" He felt the man shiver in anticipation. "…To put a Christmas tree in your rooms for my stay. And it has to have all the decorations."

Snape groaned. "Foolish Gryffindor sentimentality," He muttered as Harry stood and helped pull him to his feet. He looked down into the vibrant green eyes, gripping the strong chin gently with his thumb and forefinger. He brushed the younger wizard's lower lip with his thumbnail. "As you wish, Mister Potter."

Harry blushed at the contact and smiled as the man disappeared into the castle. Whatever was happening between them, and he was certain now that something was, it seemed to be coming to a head. He only hoped that he would be ready for it when it all came bubbling to the surface. After taking a few deep breaths, he moved swiftly into the castle, remembering he still had to meet with Flitwick and Snape in a little over an hour. He hoped that he had time to finish his Potions essay before the two men showed up. He never noticed the angry figure hidden behind a large bush off in the distance.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry sighed as he finally reached Snape's quarters and knocked on the frame of the guardian portrait. Only seven students had stayed behind for the holiday, and he'd managed to somehow run into each one, who had all somehow found out about his NEWT testing. The majority had simply wanted to wish him luck on his studying, but he had managed to run into Ron outside of the Great Hall, and the idiot boy had decided to grouse and bitch. Part of Harry wanted to challenge the red head to a duel, just to shut him up, but he was pretty sure it might be against the rules, even for a probationary instructor. After a moment, the portrait opened, and Snape stepped aside to admit him entry.

"Thanks again for letting me stay down here, Snape. I ran into Ron in the Entrance Hall, and he seems most displeased about my potentially becoming a full-time instructor. I can just imagine what he has planned for the duration of the break," Harry said, following Snape into the sitting room. He sat on the man's ridiculously comfortable couch and groaned as he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"What did your rather ill-suited nemesis have to say this time?" Snape asked, nudging Harry's arm.

The young professor looked at him to see a white mug being offered up. He took it gratefully and sipped at the black ambrosia within. "Merlin you make good coffee," He murmured, nursing the cup closely. "I sort of tuned out after he began accusing me of being a cheating snake, but I managed to gather that he felt it was unfair for me to have been given all of these incredible opportunities after a lifetime of rule-breaking and bad grades. Never mind that the majority of that rule-breaking revolved around the megalomaniac trying to kill me, and that my grades were not half as bad as he thought, except in Potions. Also, he's apparently under the impression that you and I…are…" Harry trailed off in a mumble as he raised his mug to his lips.

Snape raised an eyebrow as he perused a mag in his lap. "You'll have to speak up, Mister Potter, I'm afraid I missed that last part. What misconception has Mister Weasley latched onto?"

Harry blushed as he lowered his mug. "He thinks that you and I are, um…you know…"

"Friends?" Snape inquired distractedly as he stared at an article in that month's Potions Journal and sipped idly at his own mug.

Harry cleared his throat. "Erm, not quite. I believe the term he used was 'boning like rabbits in spring'."

This seemed to grab the Potion Master's attention, as he choked on his coffee immediately following the declaration. The man looked at him as though he had grown two heads. "What on Earth could have given that foolish boy that impression? In the first, you are still my student until you graduate, be it in a week or at the end of term, and in the second, I am unaware of any behavior between us that would suggest I am taking you to my _bed,_ which, in itself, is an absurd concept."

Harry frowned and set his cup aside. "You don't have to say it like that," He admonished, crossing his arms over his chest in a deliberate pout. "I like to think that whomever I choose as a bed partner would feel lucky to have me there."

Snape sighed and set aside his magazine. "I did not intend to insult you, Harry. I only meant to imply that the idea of me taking you to my bed is ludicrous _because_ we have only just begun getting to know one another in the last few months, not that the idea of me _ever_ doing so was impossible. I typically prefer to court my prospects, rather than inviting them to my bed immediately as you adolescents tend to do."

Harry huffed, but uncrossed his arms, staring down at his hands in his lap. "Sorry…I've always been a little defensive about that. You're right that my peers have a tendency to act on a physical attraction, sometimes without even going on a date, but I've never…I've never been 'invited' into anyone's bed, as it were. It's given me quite the complex about the many possibilities of _why_ this has never happened, even if I likely would have refused anyway."

Snape looked at him sympathetically. "Whilst it is hard to imagine that the savior of the Wizarding World doesn't have a list of sexual conquests, your response was wholly understandable. I was unclear, and if, as you say, you have a low opinion about your desirability, it makes sense that you would jump to the conclusion that you did. I apologize. Did Mister Weasley happen to indicate what made him think there was something of a sexual nature happening between us?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really, just mentioned how much time I spend with you, and how suspicious it is when we walk the halls talking amiably. He did say that he figured you had to have gotten laid, since you've managed to lighten up a bit." Snape hummed noncommittally and they sat in comfortable silence for several minutes before Harry spoke again. "I notice you didn't get the tree. I realize we weren't really racing for prizes, so I can't have expected you to actually get it, but I'll admit I'm somewhat disappointed. I didn't really get to celebrate Christmas before I came to Hogwarts, usually I was locked in the cupboard when I wasn't cooking or doing chores, and whether I pass next week or not, this is my last Christmas as a student. I just feel like everything, the holiday especially, is going to change once I'm a full-fledged teacher."

"You are unfortunately correct in that assumption, Mister Potter," Snape said softly. "Once you become a teacher, Christmas holidays will no longer be a time to spend away from homework with your friends and family. It's not precisely a change I can put into words, as nothing changes so drastically, but suddenly your holidays become a time of responsibility rather than relaxation. There are always papers to be graded, students to look after, meetings to attend, et cetera. However, you are wrong to think I would not uphold my end of our bargain. No, we were not racing for a reward, but I did agree to your request, and I won't renege. This afternoon, you and I are to go into the Forest to choose a tree. Afterwards, while Hagrid is moving it here to my quarters, I have arranged with Mrs. Weasley that we will come by to retrieve some Christmas ornaments she no longer has any use for, as well as partake in dinner at her request. She seemed to think this situation ideal; something about exchanging presents so we didn't have to fuss over the owl post."

Harry grinned. "Really? I can't tell you how much it means to me. Thank you so, so much, Professor."

Snape smiled softly. "I told you before, Harry, you do not have to call me that. And, as I have confidence in your passing your tests next week, I have decided to allow you the use of my given name, if you promise not to abuse that privilege by giving me ridiculous nicknames. We'll be leaving for the Forest soon, so I'll show you where you'll be staying for the duration of the break, and you can change into something more suitable." Harry gathered up his duffel bag as the man stood and walked to an open doorway at the back of the living space. He followed him into a brightly lit, narrow corridor. "At some point a former resident of these rooms decided to place a hallway here, presumably for the increased privacy. Your room is to be the one down on the far right side of the hallway, and there is an attached bathroom for your hygienic needs. I ask only that you not disturb me if I am in my personal lab, there at the other end, as I am sometimes working with very volatile ingredients and the slightest distraction could prove disastrous."

Harry nodded in understanding and noted the door between where they stood and his bedroom. "Am I to suppose that that's your room?" He asked.

"It is." Snape turned and looked him in the eye. "If at any time you find you have need of me for _any_ reason, do not hesitate to knock." Harry blushed as dark eyes trailed over his body. "You're likely to feel a lot of stress this week as the date of your testing draws near, and it is my hope that you will come to me if it grows to be too much. I had nightmares for a fortnight before my NEWTs, as did your mother, and we found that a sympathetic ear and warm mug of hot chocolate were the cure for those restless nights."

Harry chewed his lower lip, looking away to hide the embarrassment he felt at mistaking the man's intentions. "I have noticed that my nights lately have been a little less restful, and I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate you telling me something so private about yourself and my mum. I can't promise that I'll come to you, though…I've sort of gotten used to dealing with my sleepless nights alone."

The Potions Master merely shrugged. "The offer stands, whatever you decide, Harry. It would be remiss of me as your colleague and friend to not at least offer my services. I suggest you go and change, as we will be leaving shortly. Make sure your gifts for the Weasley's and Miss Lovegood are together so that you might simply collect them upon our return, before we floo to The Burrow."

With that, the man left him standing in the somewhat narrow corridor, having disappeared into his own rooms to change. The wizarding savior made his way into his guest room, where he found Hedwig perched expectantly on his bedpost near a magical window. He tossed his bag onto the bed and sat on the edge, stroking his owl's feathers gently.

"That man confuses the hell out of me, Hedwig. One minute I'm pretty sure he's flirting, and the next…well, he's just acting like a friend." The snowy owl gave a hoot of admonishment. "Yeah, I know I shouldn't be thinking about a teacher that way, but after I pass my NEWTs, either next week or at the end of term, it'll be alright for us to pursue a relationship. But, how do I know if I should initiate anything when the man won't give me a bloody clear sign?" Hedwig gave another hoot and leapt over onto the bedspread to pick lightly at the Gryffindor crest Hermione had helped Harry sew into his duffel bag. The young instructor laughed appreciatively. "Alright, I get it. I'm a Gryffindor, born of Gryffindors, and I shouldn't let a little uncertainty scare me off. I'll think about it, Hedwig. But I still think he, who obviously has more experience with dating, should be the one to initiate anything. I'd probably screw it up by doing something stupid on an impulse. Now, move I need to change before Snape comes rapping at my door like the overgrown bat that he is."

Hedwig hooted at him indignantly before flying to a perch in the corner and burying her head in her wing as if she were asleep. Harry rolled his eyes at her dramatics as he pulled a t-shirt, jacket, and nicer pair of jeans from his bag.

"You can be such a child sometimes, Hedwig."

The snowy owl cooed in retort, as if to say she wasn't the only one.


	16. Chapter 16

The young Defense Against the Dark Arts professor breathed deeply of the frigid winter air as he and his companion moved out onto the castle steps. "I love this time of year. It's so quiet and peaceful." He sighed as they began to make their way towards the Forbidden Forest. "When I was a kid, I used to love winter more than anything else. Fewer chores, less beatings, the delicious smells of the food I was cooking. Plus, no matter how hard they tried, my relatives couldn't keep me from eating, because there was always so much food that they wouldn't notice if I'd been nicking it whilst I cooked."

Snape looked at him curiously. "How can you speak of your abuse at their hands with such nonchalance?"

Harry shrugged. "It isn't that big of a deal anymore. I used to hate them for it, and it's made me wary of people who didn't deserve my distrust in the past," He glanced pointedly at the Potions Master. "But now? It's just sort of something that happened. Yes, it sucked, and yes, it stunted some of my personal growth, as well as a lot of my physical growth, but it isn't something I can change. The reality is, my relatives were and are wretched wastes of human life, but if they _hadn't_ treated me that way, I wouldn't have had certain traits that eventually led to the downfall of Snakeface. Curiosity, paranoia, control of my temper…all the things most of my peers simply don't have, I was taught in spades in my ten years of hell."

"It's takes a strong heart to walk away from the things you've been put through and think only of the good they have caused," Snape commented.

"Yeah, so I've been told," Harry muttered. He frowned. "I don't think it is strength, though…for me, it's always been my sanity. I mean, if I let all the shit that's happened affect me, you'd probably have to put me in the room next to Lockhart, because I'd be batshit crazy."

"That, or an old, cynical, jaded bastard with no friends," Snape said sourly.

Harry elbowed the man roughly in the ribs, scowling. "You aren't old, and while I'll admit you're a bit cynical at times, you aren't jaded, or a bastard either. We all have our ways of coping, Severus, and we're all different. But, like Albus told me once, it's our choices that make us who we are. You chose a bad path, but you made amends for it ten-fold, and now look at you: you're somewhat social, you've got friends among the staff, you've got an entire House that looks at you as if you're a god, and you managed to befriend the son of your arch nemesis, despite my best efforts to prevent the last."

Severus looked at him sharply. "You had no desire for our closeness?"

Harry blushed as they passed into the woods via Hagrid's well-marked path. "Not as such, no. I was scared, to be honest. I didn't want to get close to any of the staff because…what if I screw up? What if I don't make it as a professor? I'm already bending under the pressure, and I'm not even working full-time, not to mention how short a time I've been doing it." He wiped away a tear as it started to crest his eyelash. These were fears he hadn't even addressed to himself yet. "I'm honestly scared about what will happen if I pass my NEWTs next Friday. I'll be teaching full-time, and I won't have my studies as an excuse to fall back on. I won't be able to spend time with my friends, I'll have more responsibilities to deal with, and the younger students who are already afraid to approach me will officially see me as the unapproachable instructor. What-what if I can't handle it?" Severus remained silent and Harry cringed. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just being stupid."

Suddenly, Harry was grabbed by the arm and pulled around into a hug. "Yes, you are. Why have you not said anything about this sooner?" Snape demanded softly as he held Harry close.

The Wizarding Savior shrugged as he slid his arms underneath Severus' cloak in a return of the hug. "I didn't want to bother you, or have anyone think I was too weak to handle this. I love teaching, I feel like I could be happy doing it for the rest of my life, it's just all the stuff that comes with it…I never expected that improving the lives and knowledge of kids could involve so much stuff in-between. "

The Potions master pushed him away slightly, cupping his face in gloved hands. "You foolish boy," He spoke endearingly. "I'm-the staff and I are here to help allay those fears. Do you think we didn't struggle as you are now? Do you think Minerva did not have days of panic and worry when she was student-teaching? When I first began teaching Potions under the pretense of spying, I hated it, and wished to be anywhere else, even if it meant a slow death at the hands of the Dark Lord; but the longer I taught, the more I came to realize what you instinctually feel. We are making a difference in our student's lives; we're giving our world a better future through them. The reason the staff has been so intent upon making you feel welcome is because we _know_ that you can make it, but you have. To. Let. Us. Help. Not one of us struggled alone, Harry. We are a family, and we are here to support each other. You don't have to do this alone, and I have done everything in my power to try and show you that."

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as the Potions Master's words sunk in. He felt his shoulders slump slightly as he realized what an idiot he had been. Of course he wasn't alone, and of course he wasn't the first person to feel this way. "I'm sorry, Sev'rus. I've been so stubborn, I couldn't see what you and the others were offering. I feel like a right prat."

Severus smirked. "Good. With any luck, you'll remember how you feel in this moment and be more open with me in the future. I can't read your mind."

Harry furrowed his brow doubtfully, making the man chuckle as he pulled him back into a final hug.

"Do not look at me in that tone of voice, Potter, I'm still your professor, and I won't hesitate to _punish_ you," Snape growled against his ear.

The Defense instructor jumped as he felt snow begin to trickle down the back of his shirt. He pulled away, shaking his shirt to try and force the snow out, while Snape stood laughing. When the snow had gone, he rounded on the man, and glanced upwards as he bent down to gather some snow into a ball. He stood, packing the ball tightly between his gloved hands.

"You wouldn't dare," Snape challenged, glaring at him.

Harry smirked, tossing the ball into the air before catching it again. "You're sure about that?" He asked, meeting the man's penetrating gaze. He pulled his arm back and loosed the ball, snickering when Snape flinched, covering his face with his arms.

After a moment, the Potions Master realized he was not covered in snow and lowered his arms with a huff. "You missed!" He declared proudly.

Harry put a finger against his cheek, subtly pointing upwards. "Did I?"

Severus looked up in time to see a large pile of snow slip from one branch of the tree he stood under onto another, forcing both piles to merge as they fell towards the exact place he stood. Instantly, he was covered in snow.

"However did you make it as a spy without being aware of your surroundings?" Harry asked innocently as the man stood in shock. He laughed and turned, taking off down the path several feet ahead of the angry Potions Master.

"Potter!" The man growled, the threat evident in his tone.

Harry shouted in surprise as he felt an arm wrap around his middle just as he rounded the corner into a clearing, sending them both sprawling in the snow. Once again, Snape was on top of him, pinning his upper half. He was laughing uncontrollably even as the man smashed a handful of snow into his hair.

"You're going to pay for that, Brat," Snape promised. "I have snow in some very uncomfortable places."

The younger wizard grinned up at him. "Promises, promises, Professor, yet nothing to show for it. How is it you ever managed to keep me in line?" He reached up to brush some of the snow from the Potion Master's shoulder.

The man bared his teeth in a playful leer. "Oh, I can keep you in line," Snape whispered, leaning his face closer. They lay there, staring into one another's eyes as the mood grew heavy, the distance between them getting smaller by the second.

"Thought I heard summat!" A voice boomed, grabbing the two professor's attention. Harry leaned his head back to see Hagrid emerging from the trees, upside down, with Fang bounding along beside him. "It's good ter see yeh havin' fun, Harry."

The Seventh year felt his cheeks heat up as he struggled to stand, brushing the snow from his clothes. "Professor Snape and I were just…um…" He glanced back at the Potions Master, who was still sitting in the snow and glaring daggers at the half giant. "How've you been, Hagrid?" He asked, turning back to his oldest friend. "Sorry I haven't been able to visit much the last few months."

The friendly Care of Magical Creatures professor waved him off with a large hand, shifting the axe on his shoulder. "Not ter worry, Harry, yeh been busy is all. I remember my firs' year o' teaching, back when you was just a lad. If it hadn'ta been fer Perfessor Snape there I mighta quit in the first month. Keep that in mind, Harry, you've got people ter lean on, and I suggest you do."

Harry blushed deeper as he looked back at Snape, who was looking back smugly. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that," He muttered, smiling at his companion fondly as he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Have you done as I asked, Hagrid?" Severus asked, moving to stand beside Harry.

Hagrid stood up a little straighter. "'Course I have, Perfessor, got 'em all picked out, just like ya said. The ones that'd fit in yer rooms are over there on the far edge. Jus' mark the one ya like, and I'll have it down soon as Fang and I are done seein' ter the other trees."

"Thank you, Hagrid. And, of course, your growth serum will be delivered at Christmas, along with your gift," Snape said, nudging Harry along as they moved in the direction Hagrid had indicated.

"No hurry, Perfessor, the crops'll grow just fine on their own fer a time," The half-giant called cheerfully.

Harry smirked at the Potions Master. "You give him a Christmas present?"

"Every year since the day he came to gather me from Spinner's End and escort me on my very first visit to Diagon Alley without my mother," Severus said casually.

"That's sweet," Harry murmured, bumping the man's shoulder with his own. "And the growth serum?"

"A trade, nothing more," The dark man excused. "Hagrid has trouble growing his pumpkins to size some years, so every year I find some small task for him to perform and in exchange give him a growth serum to mix with the soil. I had not yet found such a task this year, and had thought to give it to him as an addition to his gift, but your wish for a tree presented itself as an alternative."

Harry snickered. "Aw, the Greasy Git has a heart hidden somewhere within the folds of his robes. I knew you weren't the soulless bastard the boys in my dorm always accused you of being."

Snape sniffed indignantly. "Of course I am, I'm just gaining your favor before I utterly destroy you."

The Man-Who-Prevailed rolled his eyes as they came upon the much shorter trees he supposed were the ones Hagrid had designated for them. Fortunately, there were only a few, and one of them was a sapling Harry immediately dismissed as too young to uproot. He stared at the remaining two trees for several minutes, walking around each and comparing them. He huffed in annoyance as he stared at them for another several minutes.

"Have you picked one, yet?"

Harry tensed in surprise as Severus' breath ghosted over the shell of his ear and rounded on the man. "This would go a lot faster if you could help," He pointed out hotly. "I have no idea what I'm looking for."

Severus considered him for a moment. "Well, what have you noticed so far?"

Harry turned back to the trees. "Well, they're both about the right height, and I'm only guessing that their branches are strong enough to hold decorations, but I have no way to tell for sure…"

"There are charms we can cast to fortify them if need be, along with the usual preservation charms," The man said smoothly. "What else?"

At this, Harry hesitated. "Well, this one has gaps in the branches," He said, indicating the one he meant. "But the other has a pretty strong fragrance. I love the smell of pine, but I don't know if you want that permeating your quarters. From what I remember of Aunt Petunia's tantrums, the smell can linger for weeks or months in any fabric that's near enough to the tree."

"Harry," Severus said calmly, placing his leather clad hand on the back of the younger's wizard's neck. "I'm doing this for you; my preference should not affect your choice. If your only objection is my thoughts on the matter, then we shall choose that one despite them. Is that the tree you want?"

Harry chewed his lower lip, which was starting to bruise from the abuse he had put it through, and nodded silently. He smiled as Severus conjured a red ribbon to wrap itself in a large bow around one of the more visible branches.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry grimaced as he relaxed onto Snape's couch. Between Charlie asking him out repeatedly, the twins pretending to hit on him, and Mrs. Weasley being her usual mother-hen, the dinner had seemed to last forever. Whilst he loved his adoptive family, in large doses they were overwhelming.

"I'm never going to forgive you for leaving me alone with Charlie," He stated moodily as the fireplace flared to announce Severus' arrival.

The man chuckled darkly as he sat in his armchair and unshrunk the three boxes they had received from Mrs. Weasley, only one of which actually containing Christmas decorations. "I felt it only fair after you abandoned me to the clutches of the Weasley twins. Out of curiosity, what answer did you eventually give to him?"

"I told him 'no', of course, what else was I supposed to do?" Harry demanded. "And you _know_ it wasn't fair. You and the twins at least managed a mature conversation, whereas I was stuck listening to Charlie Weasley's idea of a 'good date'; which, in case you're wondering, involves a professional Quidditch match. Who takes a first date to watch Quidditch, anyway? You can barely hear each other well-enough to talk, 'dinner' is a diet of stadium snack foods, and at the end of the night there's a chance one of you will walk away injured because of the other rowdy fans."

"That does sound…less than agreeable," Snape said, grimacing. "I had thought you would enjoy the attention. Did you not tell me just a few hours ago that you rarely got invitations of that sort?"

Harry scowled. "Yes, I do rarely get asked out, and yes, I did mention that I have never been 'invited to someone's bed' as it were, but that was not an invitation for you to meddle. At the very least, in the future you could avoid setting me up with someone so insulting."

"Insulting? I was under the impression that Charlie Weasley behaved as the perfect gentleman throughout the night, how did he insult you?" Severus inquired, confusion shining in his eyes.

"His attention was in itself insulting, Severus," Harry said, standing and moving to where their new tree stood in the far corner. "I spent the summer with the Weasleys, Charlie included, and not once did he ever give me a passing glance. You heard what he said when he first saw me: 'wow, Harry, you got hot'. He would never have asked me out if I wasn't…this." He gestured to his taller, more muscular form bitterly.

Severus frowned and walked over to him with the box of ornaments. "I apologize, Harry, I had not made that connection."

Harry shrugged, reaching into the box at his feet and beginning to place baubles and figurines on the branches. "It's fine. You meant no harm, and no one got hurt, at least."

"So Mister Weasley was not upset by your rejection?" Severus asked, taking his own set of branches.

"Not outwardly, no," Harry said, getting more decorations from the quickly dwindling supply. "He told me it was my loss, and that he's apparently a real catch in bed. When I told him I wasn't interested in having sex with someone just because they buy me dinner, he just shrugged and walked away. Who knows, maybe I should've gone out with him. I could've said no to the sex when it came to it, and at least he was interested." He explained, stretching to put the last of the ornaments on the tree. He chuckled when potion-stained fingers plucked the ornament from his hand and placed it on the branch he'd been reaching for. "Guess I'll always be short." He turned to find himself nearly pressed against the older wizard.

"You shouldn't settle for an interest as hollow as the elder Mister Weasley's," Severus said softly. "I understand your wish to be found desirable, but did you ever stop to consider what time might bring? Someone might be simply…waiting for the opportune moment before approaching you, someone who likes you for more than your good looks."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, because I have so much to offer," He muttered. He looked into the scowling eyes of his friend. "I'm kidding, Severus…mostly. I don't want to go out with someone just because they find me physically attractive…to be honest, I'm more of a long term guy. If I go out with someone, I want to be pretty sure I'm going to be with them for a long time. Casual dating hasn't ever appealed to me, but what if those are the only offers I'm going to get?"

Severus shook his head in exasperation, but let the subject drop as he took a step back and turned his attention to the tree. Harry turned to do the same, looking at the foliage critically. He frowned as he realized that, despite the ornaments, it still looked somewhat barren. The swish of a wand behind him had the ornaments rearranging and duplicating themselves, covering more of the tree. A second whisper of magic and tiny lights appeared randomly throughout the branches. Harry grinned as streams of silver and gold garland wrapped themselves loosely around the tall Scotch Pine. It looked perfect.


	18. Chapter 18

The first week of Christmas Break was mostly uneventful, as Harry was quizzed for two hours each day on his different NEWT subjects by his soon-to-be colleagues. Christmas Day, despite the festivities and yet-unopened gifts, was spent pacing in worry and sneaking glances at his texts whenever Severus wasn't looking. After a long argument with his host, Harry decided he would leave his gifts unopened until after he had taken the test, certain he would not be able to appreciate them properly with his stomach in knots. The following day heralded unending questions and requests to perform certain spells.

After what seemed to Harry to be a lifetime, he walked into Severus' rooms, nearly bent double with exhaustion. "I won't get my results until the 1st, but I'm finally finished," he announced, dropping his bag to the floor as he kicked off his shoes. He walked into the living room to see Snape staring intently at what appeared to be a short note. "What're you-"

"This fell from your bag as you left this morning," Severus said, holding the letter out for him to see.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he moved closer. A few feet away, he realized what he was looking at and paled, looking into the dark, angry eyes of his friend. "Severus, I-"

"How long have you had it?" The man interrupted, crumpling the suicide note into a ball in his fist.

Harry tried to think of a way to get himself out of his predicament, but when nothing came to him, he sighed wearily. "A few months…it's the real reason I came to you the day I asked for your help with the DA. I was serving a detention for McGonagall and while I was reorganizing her storage closet it fell off of one of the old essays."

"Did you read it?"

Harry nodded. "I saw no harm, at the time. I thought it was just some notes for your essay or something, stuff I could use-"

"To blackmail me?!"Severus snarled.

"No!" Harry cried desperately. "I didn't know what it was, I swear! After I read it, I wanted to burn it, I wanted it to disappear where no one else could ever see it. But…when I remembered that you were still here, alive, I had to talk to you about it; I needed to know what kept you from going through with it. Please, Severus, you have to believe me, I never meant any harm, I just needed to know."

The man glared at him. "Why, then, if you were so desperate for this knowledge, did you feed me that bullshit about your little club?"

The younger wizard swallowed thickly. "I was scared," He admitted. "After all the shit we've put each other through, how could I ask you something like that? And when I blurted out my request for your help, I decided that it was more important to get to know the man you are now. By the time I got back to my dorm that night, I'd forgotten about the note entirely, otherwise I'd have burned it as I originally planned."

Severus stood, tossing the letter into the fireplace angrily. He pointed his finger accusingly at Harry, making the seventeen year old flinch. "You had no right," The man said dangerously before brushing past him and disappearing into the back hall.

Harry winced at the sound of the door to Severus' private lab slamming violently shut. He sobbed, crumbling to his knees as he realized just how badly he'd screwed things up. Why hadn't he destroyed that stupid letter when he had the chance? Why hadn't he hidden it somewhere better than his school bag? He covered his face as hot tears slid over his cheeks. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

Fingers dug into his skull as Harry wept for his own stupidity. How could he have ever thought anyone, especially Severus, could want him for long? He was an absolute screw up, what the hell would anyone want with him?

After a long minute, Harry stood unsteadily, making a decision. He couldn't stay here, there was no reason to think he was still welcome. Summoning his things, he slipped on his shoes and left quickly, wiping his eyes and forcing himself to stop crying. He had done this to himself, therefore his tears were unjustified. This is what he continued to tell himself as he made the long trek back to his rooms.

"Hello, _Professor_ ," A snide voice called from down the corridor.

Harry turned to see his tormentor making long strides in his directions. "Not now, Ron, I'm not in the mood for your games," he growled, turning back to continue walking.

The red-head jogged to walk beside him. "Aw, did the faggoty instructor have a bad day?" He jeered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You've really got to drop that line, it's gotten old. And I don't see how my preferences have any effect on you." Without warning, he found himself pinned against the corridor wall. "What the hell, Ron! Probationary Instructor or not, I could have you expelled for attacking me. Get off!" He struggled as the stronger teen gripped his wrists in one hand, holding him pinned against the wall.

"You think you're so big, Potter, you think you're so powerful? Let me show you what true power is," The boy crooned.

Harry froze as he felt shaking fingers trying to undo his pants. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.

Ron sneered nastily before smashing his mouth against Harry's. "You'll fuck with that stupid git," He gasped, finally managing to get Harry's pants undone. "I'm gonna show you what a real man feels like."

The young defense instructor panicked when icy fingers plunged into his skivvy's, and when the other boy's tongue invaded his mouth he bit down as hard as he could on the appendage. This had the desired effect of getting the boy to back away, and immediately, Harry's hands went to his pants, trying desperately to get them re-buttoned with trembling fingers. Somewhere, the buried logic of his mind knew that this wasn't about sex, or wanting to hurt him, it was about control, but he was still damned shaken.

"You thtupid pwick!" Ron screamed.

Harry looked up in time to have his legs taken out from under him. His head collided violently with the flagstone, but before he could regain his bearing, a boot collided with his face. He cried out as he felt his nose break and tried to sit up, but another blow to his temple sent his head reeling into the wall. Harry's vision swam dangerously.

"I'm gonna kill you," Weasley said, his words heavily slurred by the blood gushing from his tongue. A swift kick to Harry's ribs sent the sound of cracking bone echoing down the empty corridor. "And when I'm done, I gonna kill that greasy bastard you seem to love so much."

Time slowed as the wizarding savior suddenly roared with anger…


	19. Chapter 19

Harry blinked groggily as his mind began to clear, grateful for the surrounding darkness. He groaned as his body protested his very breath. When his head stopped spinning, he tried to sit up, only to have a hand on his chest push him back down.

"What-"

"You're safe, Harry, you're in the Hospital Wing," Came the welcome answer. "From the scene we discovered in the halls, you were physically attacked by Mister Weasley and at some point your animagus form leapt to your defense. Madame Pomfrey managed to heal your nose, and your ribs will be fine after another dose of potions, but there was little we could do for your concussion beyond stopping the swelling and bleeding."

"How dare you perform such a life-saving measure," Harry said sarcastically. He turned and looked at the man who sat beside his bed. "Who found me?" He was met with silence.

"What do you recall from the attack?" Albus eventually asked.

Harry moved his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Most of it," He muttered bitterly. "I was walking back to my quarters when Ron cornered me in the First Floor corridor, just down the way from my rooms. I tried to just walk away, but I…I guess I was too tired, or too distraught to think straight, because despite my training, I found myself pinned against the wall. He started spouting all of this bullshit about power, and I might have gotten out of his hold, but I sort of froze when he started undoing my slacks. When he tried to kiss me, I took the opportunity to bite down on his tongue. I should've incapacitated him immediately, but I was still panicking from what he'd tried to do…he shoved me to the ground, and I hit my head, then he started kicking me, saying he was going to kill me, and when he was finished, he was going to kill Snape. I remember how angry I felt when he said it, but after that, everything sort of goes black." He looked at the man worriedly. "I didn't-"

"Mister Weasley will survive, Harry," Albus said, seeing the direction his thoughts were headed. "He is currently being housed at St. Mungo's under heavy guard, and once he's well enough, he will be held in a high security cell at Azkaban until the resolution of the trial, where he'll be moved into solitary for several years to come. I have spoken to the Ministry on your behalf, and due to the high-profile nature of the case, you will not be required to testify, so long as you can provide a memory that clearly shows you did not initiate the attack, as Mister Weasley claims."

The younger wizard relaxed at hearing this news. After the debacle in his Fifth Year, he hated Ministry courtrooms, and wanted to stay as far away from one as possible. He closed his eyes, trying to force the images of the attack from his mind. Several minutes passed in silence before Albus' voice floated softly to his ears.

"Harry, what were you doing in that corridor? I asked Severus, but he refused to say, and-"

"If he's not saying, then I'm not either, Headmaster," Harry told the wizened old man firmly. "It's not my place, as he obviously wishes to keep the evening's incident between us."

"But, Harry, I can't help-"

"I appreciate that, Headmaster," Harry interrupted again. He found himself growing uncommonly angry at the old wizard for his prying. "The fact remains, however, that I will not betray Professor Snape's confidence. If he wishes you to know, then he can tell you himself." He rolled over in the bed to face away from the man he had come to think of as a grandfather of sorts. "I'm sorry, Headmaster. Good night."

The aged wizard fetched a deep, suffering sigh. "I understand, Harry, and I won't press you further. I can only hope that, whatever _has_ happened, it will not cause too great a rift between my two favorite boys." Harry heard the Headmaster stand. "Good night, Harry, get some rest."

Harry waited until he heard Dumbledore leave the Infirmary before he rolled back onto his back. The action of rolling onto his side had caused an unimaginable fire to start in his ribs, and he breathed shallowly as he waited for the pain to subside. He could only imagine the damage Ron had done that even with all of Poppy's spells and Snape's potions, he was still not yet fully healed. The pain in his ribs was so great that he almost wished that he'd stuck around Snape's quarters to be the target of even more accusations.

However, this idea started a new ache, deep in Harry's chest. The thought of Snape reminded him of what he'd done. Why hadn't he just destroyed that stupid note when he had the chance? Why had it become so damned important to find out what had stopped Severus from doing as the note promised?

Harry sighed. He couldn't change what he had done, nothing could change that, but he knew why it mattered so much why Snape hadn't gone through with it. He was sure it would come as a surprise to even his closest friends, but more than once in his life he had considered taking the coward's way out. When he'd been with his relatives, before he'd received his Hogwart's letter, he had seen no other way out. Since then, with the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders, he had thought once or twice of taking his own life and leaving the Wizarding World to it's fate. It had always been the fear of what might happen in his absence that had stopped him.

As a child, he hadn't understood that Vernon's anger was meant for him alone, and had been afraid for the aunt who, while not a saint, had always bandaged the worst of his wounds. This, of course, had changed as he got older and realized that Vernon would never do anything to harm his perfectly normal wife and child. By then, though, he had come to Hogwarts and had found true, unconditional friendship, a group who he could never rightly abandon to the clutches of the Dark Lord (even if one of them had abandoned him more than once for stupider reasons than the pressure of all of Wizarding Britain).

So, perhaps a part of him hadn't forgotten about Severus' suicide note. Maybe some part of him had hoped that, when the time came, he would find it again and ask the question burning in his mind; the question whose answer might be the salvation he needed in knowing that he wasn't alone. Maybe he had really kept it as a subconscious reminder of precisely that.

The only problem was that it no longer mattered _why_ he had kept the note, if it had ever mattered to begin with. The issue now was that he _had_ kept it, and Severus had discovered his treacherous breach of the man's privacy. It didn't matter that Harry had found the note before they'd become friends, it didn't even matter that this friendship had blossomed _from_ the discovery. All that mattered now was that Severus know just how much Harry regretted his actions, and how much he valued the friendship that had accidentally been born of those self-same actions.

Harry sighed as he recalled the Headmaster's parting words. He could not, in good conscience, allow himself to "get some rest" without first at least making the effort to apologize to Snape (something, he realized now, he had failed to do when the man had confronted him). Carefully, he sat up on the bed, his breathing once again shallow as his ribs protested the movement. Sucking as deep a breath as he could manage through clenched teeth, Harry swung his legs off the bed and stood. It took a moment for his mind to orient itself through the pain, and he swayed dangerously, standing beside the bed in the over-starched hospital pajama's that had replaced his blood-soaked clothing. When he could finally see straight and no longer felt like he was going to throw up, Harry took a first, lurching step forward. His ribs were an agony of fire before his foot had even made contact with the cold cobblestones.

Realizing he wouldn't get far if he had to stop every time he took a step, Harry looked around for his wand. It was lying innocently on the table beside his bed, and there beside it sat a pain potion. He scowled at the green phial for not having made itself known sooner. Reaching for it carefully, he sucked in a deep breath and pulled the stopper, gritting his teeth against the jarring pain this action caused. When his vision cleared, he knocked back the potion and went about buckling his wand holster to his arm as he waited for the numbing agent to kick in. By the time he had finagled the last buckle, the potion had started to work, and he sheathed his wand before moving towards the Hospital Wing doors. It was still slow going, but it was definitely faster than it would have been without the assistance of the pain potion.


	20. Chapter 20

The Wizarding Savior leaned heavily against the walls of the dungeon corridor. He was mere feet from the portrait of three old Potions Master's that guarded Severus' quarters, and it only now occurred to him that he might not be able to gain entry. Firstly, it was very late, nearly three in the morning according to his watch, and secondly, Snape had probably changed the password after his discovery of Harry's selfish, prying behavior. Taking as deep a breath as he could manage, Harry pressed onward. If he couldn't get in then he'd sleep in the damned corridor. There was no way he could get back to the Hospital Wing on the single pain potion, he could already feel it starting to wane in his system.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he gave the password and the portrait swung open. When he considered how anal retentive Snape could be, this gave him hope. It seemed unlikely that the man would simply forget to change his password, especially when one thought of how angry he'd been. Praying that the man was not yet in bed, Harry made his way slowly into the Potions Master's quarters, the portrait swinging shut behind him.

He looked around the dimly lit dungeon chamber. In the corner, the Christmas tree twinkled brightly, his gifts from the day before still stacked underneath. Harry let his hope blossom just a little more at this second sign that perhaps Severus was expecting him to come back. Carefully, he made his way towards the back hall. If Snape was in bed, he would take up residence on the couch. He only had a few hours before the man was usually up, he could wait him out.

He stepped slowly through the open doorway into the back hall and surveyed the three unremarkable doors. The door to Severus' bedroom was open, as was the door to his guest suite, but at the opposite end the door to the man's private lab was shut tight, flickering torch light leeching out through the crack underneath. Harry gave another sigh. He had been warned when he was _welcome_ here that he was not to disturb Severus in his lab, he doubted that had changed now that he probably wasn't. Turning back to the living room, he moved to the couch and lowered himself painfully down onto the soft, encompassing leather. The texture felt cool against his burning skin through the thin pajama's he'd been put in.

His hand wrapped around his aching middle, Harry quickly realized that sitting up wasn't going to do anything for his pain, no matter how deep a slouch he sunk into. He lifted his freezing, bare feet up onto the couch, swinging around so he could lie on his back with the arm as his pillow. Before he could even think that he might, the Wizarding Savior fell asleep.

 _Harry opened his eyes to find the dungeon chamber cold and dark. He sat up quickly, his breath ghosting in the frigid winter air, made worse by the endless stone walls of the dungeons. Where was Severus? He had to find him._

 _Harry stood and surveyed the living room. The normally vibrant space appeared almost gray in the dim light. The young Defense Instructor almost moved to find the source of this light, but remembered that he still had to tell Severus…something. He wasn't sure what, but he knew it was important. Slowly, unsure of his steps in the dark, Harry moved to the partition wall and looked through. It was dark back here as well. He stepped towards the door to Severus' lab. The light from before was gone, and the normally heavily warded door was slightly ajar. Worry flickered in Harry's heart as he walked towards the door. As he drew closer, he reached out and pushed the door the rest of the way open._

 _A potion sat unattended on a dark tabletop, rows of ingredients still waiting to be prepared and added to the concoction. Harry's concern grew as he stepped into the dark room. Where had the man gone? He stepped further into the room to get a better look around. Perhaps there was a cot at the back to help Severus remain close to his work when in the middle of a potion?_

 _Harry moved further into the room, then stopped. There was something on the floor by the table. He squinted in the darkness and what he saw caused his blood to turn to ice in his veins. A pool of blood lay drying under the corpse of the very Potions Master he'd been in search of. Familiar, cold laughter echoed behind him._

"Severus!" Harry gasped, sitting up on the couch. He groaned and grabbed his side, gritting his teeth as his ribs roared with pain.

"Yes?"

Harry whipped his head around at the unexpected response. There, in his usual armchair, sat Severus Snape, sipping at a cup of coffee and looking through the special Christmas edition of the Potions Journal. The Wizarding Savior smiled softly in relief.

"You're here," He murmured, turning to sit properly on the couch.

A thin, manicured eyebrow lifted sardonically, but still the man didn't abandon his perusal of the mag. "As are you, Mister Potter. Poppy is highly irate that you left the confines of the Hospital Wing without her permission."

Harry huffed a short, gasping laugh. "I'm sure she is…but I had to see you. I realized last night that, while I made a lot of excuses for my actions, I didn't once apologize." He leaned forward, ignoring his screaming ribs, and tried to catch the man's eye to no avail. He fell back against the couch, rubbing his eyes. "That's why I'm here…to apologize. I-I'm really sorry, Severus, for taking and reading the note. I should have left it alone. But…I can't bring myself to regret my actions. I love teaching, my students, and having you as my friend. If I'd never read that note then I would have none of that. I'd still be just another student, we'd probably still be enemies…I just- I don't want this to ruin us."

"I know, Harry," Snape murmured. "Here."

Harry took his hand away from his face to see the older wizard standing above him, offering a much-needed pain potion. He took it, grateful that it was already unstoppered, and knocked it back with a grimace. Snape took the phial once it had been drained of its contents and placed it on the end table, then held his hand out for Harry to take. Harry took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet painfully.

"You shouldn't be down here, Harry," Severus said, stepping back slightly.

Harry shrugged, looking away. "I know…I just needed you to hear what I had to say. Now I've said it, feel free to kick me out. I won't fight you."

"Come," Snape said, scooping him up into deceptively strong arms bridal style. The Gryffindor instinctively wrapped his arms around the thin neck. "I'll take you back to the Hospital Wing before you do yourself further damage."

Harry felt a (thankfully brief) urge to weep like a child. Despite the closeness of their embrace, and the way Snape pressed him closer to the solid chest, the Wizarding Savior could sense a subtle difference in the touch. Gone was the intimacy he had grown accustomed to feeling from those smoldering black eyes. In its place he felt a cold, clinical detachment that made him feel as though he were a cat being held by the nape of its neck. A sob escaped that he managed to bury in a groan of pain as Harry realized that whatever romantic end he had imagined them working towards was gone now.


	21. Chapter 21

The young Defense Instructor was released from the Infirmary the next morning, his ribs fully healed. Snape had visited once, in the afternoon not long after Ministry officials had come to collect his memory, to inquire as to how he felt, but had only stayed for a few minutes, and didn't mention Harry's apology. The former Gryffindor thought perhaps he had made a mistake by not, at least, pretending to regret the actions that had led to their previous camaraderie.

Over the next few days, Severus was scarce, and Harry made a point of not seeking him out. A part of him was angry that the man refused to accept his pitiful apology, and the rest of him acknowledged that the Potions Master needed his space. He only hoped that things between them would not remain tense when the students returned. Who knew what it would do to their classroom order?

By some miracle, however, despite the wall that had appeared between them, Severus showed up in the Teacher's Lounge on the 1st to wait with the rest of the staff for Harry's results. The Boy Who Lived was pacing nervously across the room when the man came in, the last to arrive. He looked hopefully into the dark gaze, but Severus broke the eye contact before Harry could make anything of it. He took up residence in an armchair in the corner, where he opened a book and ignored everyone else in the room.

Harry sighed sadly and resumed his pacing, tuning out the conversations of his colleagues. What if he hadn't passed? These were his NEWT's, and he hadn't even finished his 7th Year, only did the majority of the homework. And what if he did pass? He already had his teaching certificate, so if he passed his NEWT's there was nothing except his age to stop the Board deciding he was fit to run his own classroom. If that happened, he'd never see Snape outside of meals. And what of Snape? What if Snape simply decided to pass off his role to Remus? The werewolf hadn't said anything about it, but there were still a few days before the students came back.

The Wizarding Savior stopped his pacing, which had grown more fervent as his mind swirled with these terrible thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing his ponytail. Why the hell hadn't his results come yet? The officials had said he'd get the owl sometime before one, and it was already ten-till.

With a groan, Harry resumed his pacing. After a moment, he stopped again when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and was somewhat disappointed to see Remus. He shot a mournful glance to the far corner where Snape sat that went unnoticed by either man.

"Harry, it's going to be fine, I promise," Remus said reassuringly.

Harry gave him a soft smile. "I know, but I can't help being nervous. What if I didn't pass, Remmy?"

Lupin gave a hearty chuckle. "After all of your work? I'm sure you did fine, Harry." He grew serious when he saw that this was not allaying his honorary godson's fears. "Harry, I have complete faith that you passed. However, even in the unlikely case that you didn't, I want you to know that I'm proud of you; you've worked so hard the last few months. And I _know_ Lily would be proud of you, pass or fail."

The Defense Instructor couldn't help but grin. "You really think so?"

Remus touched his cheek gently. "I know so." He repeated.

Harry leaned into the touch. "Thanks, Remus, for everything. But, even if I did pass by some miracle, you're going to finish out the year with me, right? For the sake of the Seventh Years, at least?"

"Of course, Harry," The werewolf assured him softly. "For their sakes as well as yours."

The room stilled as an owl swept in through the open window, and Harry saw with a glance that even Snape was watching the owl with mild anxiety. The brown Ministry owl landed on the arm of the couch in the middle of the room, beside McGonagall, who quickly detached it's burden and handed it over to Harry.

"Your results, Mister Potter."

Harry took the letter with shaking hands, stepping back, away from Remus. He struggled to get it open with his trembling fingers. After a breathless moment, he finally broke the wax seal. Carefully, he unfolded the thick parchment and scanned it's contents. A slow grin came across his face as he read through the list. He'd gotten E's and O's on everything except History of Magic, where he got an A.

He looked up at the staff of Hogwarts, all looking at him expectantly. "I passed everything!" He announced. He directed the next at the Potions Master, still sitting in his corner. "I'm not a student anymore, I'm a full-fledged teacher!"

Quite suddenly, the room broke into shouts of congratulations, the majority of his professor's gathering around to either hug him or pat him warmly on the back. Harry grinned around at them all as they moved aside to let the Headmaster through. The aged wizard put a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Congratulations, Professor Potter," The man said meaningfully.

Harry's grin grew wider. "Thank you, Professor."

Dumbledore winked, his blue eyes sparkling maddeningly. "I think, under the circumstances, that you may now call me 'Albus', Harry. You are my colleague now, after all."

McGonagall stepped up beside their esteemed Headmaster. "And you must call me Minerva, Harry. We're so proud of you."

The other instructor's took this as a sign to begin insisting themselves that Harry call them by their given names. The Defense Instructor accepted their congratulations and well-wishes gratefully, but couldn't help but be distracted by thoughts of the first professor to give him the same permission. He looked to the corner where Snape had been, only to find the man had gone. He frowned, saddened by yet more proof that the man wasn't going to forgive him and turned back to his new colleagues. He half-heartedly joined in as they began discussing going down to Hogsmeade to celebrate.


	22. Chapter 22

Harry walked back to his quarters in silence with Remus after the long celebration in the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta had been generous with the drinks, congratulating Harry on his accomplishment, and whilst most of the teacher's had maintained their joviality on only a few spirits, Remus and Hagrid had both drunk heavily. Remus, nowhere near sober, had insisted on walking Harry back to his rooms with the excuse that something might happen. Harry had been hard-pressed to deny the drunken werewolf, who'd refused to take no for an answer.

As they neared his rooms, Harry looked at his friend walking beside him. "Thanks again for all the help you've given me, Remus. If you see Severus before I do, could you thank him for me?"

The werewolf gave him a sympathetic smile. The entire staff had been told by Albus about the sudden rift between the young Defense Instructor and older Potions Master, even though to most it was fairly obvious already that something had happened. Several had even tried to ask what had been the cause, but Harry still refused to say.

"You're welcome, Harry," Remus said finally, his words heavily slurred from the alcohol racing through his system. "S'not like I did much, though. All I've done is offer a little assistance with your Seventh Year class."

Harry stopped the older wizard with a hand on his arm. "No, Remus, I'm serious. I couldn't have gotten where I am without you. I don't just mean your help with my grading and studying, I mean everything. I doubt I could have gotten as far as I have if you and everyone else hadn't been such a source of silent support as you have been."

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment before the werewolf suddenly leaned down and crashed their lips together in a sloppy kiss. Harry pushed the man away with a hand on the firm, insistent chest.

"What the hell, Moony?"

The former Defense Instructor tried to close the distance between them again, but Harry's hand stayed firm on his chest. He reached out with his fingers to grab at Harry's robes. "Oh, come on, Harry, don't be a spoil sport. It's just a little goodnight kiss; more if you're up for it."

Harry grimaced in distaste, the rancid smell of alcohol on the man's breath making him want to gag. "I'm not." He said firmly.

Remus tried again to close the distance. "Why not? You and Snape are fighting, right? And it's not like he'd care anyway."

Harry found his strength was not a match for the drunken man he looked at as a father, and tried to back away as those deceptively strong arms wrapped around his torso. A voice beyond Remus' shoulder made Harry freeze.

"I think you'll find that you're wrong," Severus growled.

Remus glanced over his shoulder, but didn't stop trying to pull Harry closer. "Bugger off, Snivellus. It's my turn."

The roaming hands were gone from Harry' back and sides almost immediately as Snape pulled Remus off of him by the scruff of his neck. Harry couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, even as Remus struggled to get loose. He looked at the Potions Master gratefully, but the man was apparently not done with the wiggling werewolf.

"I believe Potter told you 'no'," Severus said. "I suggest you go running back to your cave before _I_ make the answer more clear, Wolf." He shoved his old schoolmate slightly down the corridor, away from Harry's apartments.

Remus turned back, obviously wanting to argue, but a dark look from those black eyes had him turning back down the corridor and storming away as quickly as possible. When he was gone, Harry looked at Severus, who turned to him with a gentle, searching gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, blushing. "I am, thanks to you." He murmured. "I'm starting to regret ever taking those damn potions. Seems like everyone wants into my pants now, with or without my permission."

Snape grimaced with sympathy. "It does appear so. Why did you not use magic to defend yourself?"

Harry shrugged, looking away. "He was just being an idiot. I didn't want to hurt him. He'll feel bad enough tomorrow when he's sober. If it had gotten any farther, I would have, though; drunkenness only gets you so far." He looked up into the fathomless black gaze. "I'm really glad you showed before I was forced to do anything. Thanks, for coming to my rescue."

"Of course," The man replied immediately.

They stood there in the dark corridor for a few moments in awkward silence, occasionally catching one another's eye before looking away as quickly. Snape was utterly still, and looked as if he wanted to speak, but didn't. Harry shifted nervously.

"Do-do you want to come in? I could make some coffee." He said at last, the silence too much for him.

Snape smiled a little gratefully. "As you wish, Mister Potter."

Harry grinned and led the way the last few feet to his rooms. As soon as they were inside, they went about their old routine of removing their cloaks, Snape placing his on his usual hook by the door. They caught each other's eye, and Harry blushed at receiving the familiar smirk. As Snape took up his normal place on Harry's couch, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor disappeared into his large kitchenette, blocked off by a row of cupboards.

As soon as he was out of view, Harry leaned back against the counter and closed his eyes. The encounter with Remus had shaken him up more than he'd been willing to admit. Flashes of Ron trying to get his pants undone sparked against his eyelids, and he shuddered. He knew Remus hadn't intended to hurt or frighten him, but he couldn't help but draw parallels between the two instances.

Harry was startled from his thoughts by a pair of warm arms wrapping him in a firm hug against a solid chest. He wrapped his arms around the older man's middle, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Harry, are you really all right?" Snape asked softly.

Harry almost answered 'yes', to alleviate the man's concern, but shook his head instead. He didn't want to lie to the Potions Master. "I-I don't know." He admitted, just as softly. "I know it's not the same, but I can't help thinking about what happened with Ron."

Snape jerked away suddenly. "What happened with Weasley?" He asked in a dangerous growl. His hands cupped Harry's face.

Harry started, then realized that no one but Albus, and the Aurors who had taken his memory, knew what had happened in the corridor five days ago, only that he had been attacked. He blushed under the scrutinizing gaze of his friend.

"He, um, he…" He swallowed thickly, unsure he could say it. "He-he tried to have his way with me, as it were."

Snape growled and pulled Harry back into a fierce hug. "I'll kill him." He swore angrily.

Harry shook his head. "Ron's going to be punished enough by the Wizengamot."

Snape pushed Harry away by his shoulders and gripped his chin, moving his head this way and that as if looking for a mark. "I was referring to that idiotic wolf."

Harry chuckled, but this was apparently the wrong response, as the Potions Master's gaze sharpened darkly. He cleared his throat, sobering immediately. "No, Severus," He said, grabbing the hand on his chin. "Leave it alone. Remus couldn't have known what Ron did any more than you did before I told you. He didn't mean to hurt me. I doubt he would have been as insistent if he had known."

Snape harrumphed in response. "I'd still like to see him hung for what he did to you, but I will respect your wishes, Harry."

This made the Gryffindor smile softly. "Thank you, Severus, for wanting to defend me. But, you know as well as I do that as soon as Remus is sober, he'll start beating himself up. He doesn't need either of us making it harder on him. Now, then, why don't you go sit, and I'll make that coffee I promised?"

The man visibly hesitated, obviously not wanting to leave Harry alone again, but finally gave a stiff nod and left the kitchen. Harry sighed when the man had gone and set about making the coffee magically. At least now he knew Snape didn't completely hate him for his idiocy. When the coffee was done, he got down his mug and the one Severus always used when he was around and took them into the living room. He was surprised to see the man had not resumed his usual spot on the couch, but had been standing nervously by the fireplace.

"Severus, is everything all right?"

Snape started and turned to him, looking somewhat abashed. "I'm fine, Harry."

The Wizarding Savior was unconvinced, but accepted that this would be all he'd get. He handed the man one of the steaming mugs in his hand and sat down in the middle of the couch. Severus came over and joined him, but left a gaping space between their legs where before he had never bothered to be so formal. They sipped their coffee quietly until Snape broke the uncomfortable silence a few minutes later.

"The reason I came up here, Harry," The man said softly, "Was because I wanted to congratulate you. I didn't get a chance to do so earlier, as my potions demanded my attention. I also want to apologize for not joining you and the others in Hogsmeade. As you no doubt recall from my time going out with you and your friends a few months back, I am not a very social person. And, aside from that, I had my work to be getting on with."

Harry blushed under the apologetic gaze. "Oh, um, that's alright, Severus. I understand, really. Even with yours and Remus' help the last week and a half, I don't think I'm even half-done with my Holiday grading, since I've been so intent on my NEWT's. I'll probably spend all day tomorrow in my office, just getting caught up."

Snape hummed, looking away. "If you like, as I have my own grading to finish, I could come and keep you company tomorrow? It is, after all, Sunday."

Harry smiled at that, but realized he couldn't say yes. "I want you to," He started. "But you better not. Remus is going to be a mess tomorrow, and I'll probably spend half the day insisting that I don't hate him."

Severus frowned. "I see," He murmured. Suddenly, he stood, setting aside his half-finished mug of coffee. "I should go, it's late."

Before Harry could do more than look up, hurt by what suddenly felt like a rejection, Snape had swept past him and left his quarters, grabbing his cloak on the way out. The Defense Instructor couldn't help but feel like he'd just failed a very important test. Sighing, he stood and took their unfinished coffees to the kitchen for Dobby to wash up later. It was obvious Snape was willing to try and rebuild their friendship, even if he still hadn't said whether or not Harry was forgiven, and now Harry felt as though he'd just blown their chance at mending fences.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry walked into his office early the next morning to see Remus sitting at his desk, nursing a cup of tea and what Harry was sure had to be a massive hangover. Just for the hell of it, and slightly out of revenge, he slammed the office door shut loudly, causing the man to jump, gripping his head, halfway out of his chair. He compounded on this by laughing loudly, causing the man to flinch away from him.

"Merlin, Harry, I am never going to drink again," He muttered, looking green around the gills.

Harry chuckled and shooed the man out of his chair. Remus stood unsteadily. "It's just a bit of dehydration, Moony, you'll feel better soon."

The werewolf sidled past the chair and stood in front his honorary godson, looking like a kicked puppy. "No, Harry, I mean it, no more drinking, and definitely not that heavily. I can't believe I tried to force myself on you last night."

Harry put a tender hand on the man's shoulder. "It's all right, Remus, really. You were drunk, not yourself. We've all been there. Well, I haven't, but I've never actually been drunk, either, so…" He chuckled again and leaned back against his desk. "I promise, Moony, all is forgiven."

Lupin blushed, rubbing his hands together. "Thank you, Harry."

The younger wizard waved him off. "It's noth-" He was cut off by a swift kiss, and this time he was taken by such surprise that he didn't have a chance to stop the older Defense Instructor before a searching tongue breeched his lips and danced over his own. For the second time, he pushed the man away. "Remus! The answer is still 'no'." He said crossly. "What the hell are you doing?"

The man backed away, embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry, Harry, I thought, since you'd forgiven me…maybe your objection last night was because I'd been drunk. With you and Severus fighting, I thought perhaps that meant you were back on the market."

Harry frowned. "No, Remus," He said clearly. "Firstly, as a point of fact, Severus and I aren't, nor have we ever been, in a romantic relationship. Secondly, my objection is because you are like a father to me, a close friend at best. I could never think of you in that way. "

"Oh, r-right," The man murmured. "I suppose that makes sense. It's just, you've changed so much since you became a teacher. You-you're hot as hell, now that you don't look like James, and that voice...A-and you've matured so much since we met."

Harry rolled his eyes, pushing the man further away as he turned to the ungraded papers on his desk. "I was thirteen, it's not exactly a difficult concept." The younger wizard sighed and began stuffing shrunken scrolls of parchment into special compartments in his bag. Merlin, he had so much grading left to do before tomorrow, and he doubted he'd get any done if he stayed where Remus could bother him. When he'd done, he turned back to his father's friend. "Look, Remmy, you're a great guy, and I mean that, but I'm never going to see you in that way, alright? Why-why don't you go and get a Hangover Cure from Madame Pomfrey, finish sobering up, and then grade what's left of the Seventh Year essays, alright? I'll see you at dinner."

The werewolf nodded, looking even more like a kicked puppy than he had before. "O-okay, Harry, I'll do that."

The Wizarding Savior gave a stiff nod and left the room. His first thought was to return to his rooms, or go to the Lounge, but as he recalled the night before he decided to throw caution to the wind. He turned towards the dungeons.

Within a few minutes, Harry found himself outside of Severus' office. He wanted to just walk in, like he had in the past, but he hesitated. He didn't think it would be as easily ignored as it had been before Boxing Day. Instead, he knocked carefully on the dark wood and waited, as he had done so many months back.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door and stepped inside the dimly lit office, closing the oaken barrier behind him. "Hey," He said nervously.

Snape looked up sharply, a hesitant smile on his face. "Harry? What're you-"

"Do you mind if I work down here with you?" The Gryffindor asked, interrupting. "Remus is…he's, um, still recovering from last night's festivities, and I really need to get my grading finished."

Severus gestured to the chair in front of his desk, clearing some his scrolls away to give Harry space. "Of course not," He answered immediately. "I thought you said you were going to spend the day reassuring the wolf that you didn't hate him?"

"I was," Harry assured him. "But…well, I think Remus got the wrong message last night."

The Potions Master scowled. "What did that idiot Gryffindor do?"

Harry scowled back playfully. "I'm a Gryffindor, too, you know." The scowl deepened as Snape raised a questioning eyebrow. Harry blushed and looked away as he started pulling out his essays from his bag, enlarging them to stack on top of Snape's desk. "He, er, kissed me, again." The scowl transformed into an angry sneer. "He took 'no' for an answer this time," The Defense Instructor insisted. "He just thought that, because I wasn't angry, that maybe my rejection last night was more to do with the fact that he was drunk. I set him straight, obviously, but decided I had best leave him alone for a while."

Snape did not seem appeased. "And did that moronic mutt give a reason for his sudden interest?" He inquired with a growl.

It was Harry's turn to frown. "Because of the way I look," He muttered sourly, starting on his Second Year essays. He didn't look up at the Potions Master. "He said something else, about me being more mature, but he mentioned my looking 'hot', and my voice first. The thing about my maturity was more of an afterthought, if anything."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Snape told him softly.

Harry looked up to see sympathy in the black eyes. It made him smile. "Thank you, Severus. I suppose I should get used to it, though. I _have_ changed a lot, physically and mentally, and it's not as if I can reverse either process. It will only get worse, the longer people have to work up the courage to hit on me."

"I told you before, Harry," Severus said. "There's someone out there for you, someone who doesn't want you just because of your good looks."

Harry rolled his eyes jokingly. "Sure, Severus, and unicorns travel on the backs of rainbows." He ignored the scowl he got in response to this. "I'll believe it when I see it. For now, I just want to get my grading done before the students return tonight. I don't want my first act as a full-time teacher to be an apology to my students because I couldn't get _my_ homework done on time."

The scowl remained, but Snape gestured for him to continue with his work. Harry turned back to the papers gratefully, glad that, down here at least, he would be allowed to work in peace. Thankfully, he hadn't assigned more than nine inches for any of his classes before the break.

SSHP

Harry and Severus worked silently through lunch. After a time, Harry's pile of papers began to dwindle more quickly as Snape finished his own grading and started helping with the Defense essays. Though it seemed as if, yes, this time together indicated they were well on their way to picking up the pieces of their broken friendship, Harry still sensed a hesitancy in their camaraderie, as if they were both unsure of how to behave. When they were done, there was still an hour before dinner, and they had begun to hear the loud chatter of students in the corridors.

They sat in silence, working out the cramps in their hands and shoulders. Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "Amazing," He muttered. "Spent my entire break studying for or worrying over my NEWT's, and _this_ was the hardest part."

Snape smirked. "It gets better. Next year, you'll know to get your grading out of the way early, since you won't have much else to worry about, and then it's just a matter of enjoying your Christmas Holiday."

Harry raised a challenging eyebrow. "You didn't get yours done early," He argued.

"Yes, well, I had other things on my mind," The Slytherin excused lightly. He sat forward after stretching his spine. "Speaking of the holiday, I believe I have some things for you." He stood and gestured for Harry to follow. "Come. We have only so long before our time is stolen by Albus and the children."

The Wizarding Savior groaned and stood from the uncomfortable chair he'd been occupying for the last several hours. "Ugh, I realize _why_ you have such an unsavory chair for your students, but I absolutely hate that thing."

Snape smirked as he led the way out of his office and into the corridor, where several students were loitering. "You could have transfigured it," He said. He gave a dark and brooding glare to the students nearby, and even the Seventh Years quickly went on their way.

"Merlin, I wish I could do that," Harry said in awe. "I have to threaten the brats with detention before they'll move away from my office. Also, I would _never_ take the liberty of transfiguring someone else's furniture, I feel it's rude."

"The glare comes with time, and having horror stories helps," Snape commented, leading the way to his quarters. "As for my furniture, so long as it is just that chair, you have my permission to transfigure it whenever you like, providing you change it back before a student sits in it. Even a softening charm would work."

Harry grinned. "Nah, can't do those. Last time I tried, I made a wooden bench have the consistency of a bean bag chair. It looked like a Salvador Dali painting."

They came to a stop in front of the portrait of three Potions Masters and Snape turned to Harry with a raised eyebrow, looking somewhat impressed. "That is either an incredible talent, or the strangest thing I have ever heard."

The grin on Harry's face grew. "I'd say 'can't it be both', but we both know you've heard stranger things as a professor at Hogwarts." He followed Snape into his quarters as the man let go a bellowing laugh.

"Too true, Professor Potter, touché," He answered. "Have a seat."

Harry did as he was told and went to sit on the couch in his usual place. Snape sat in his favorite chair and summoned a small pile of presents. He carefully maneuvered them with his wand so that they were stacked on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

"I have already opened mine, save the one I received from you, and thought you might like to open yours before the Break is truly over," Severus said by way of an explanation.

Harry wanted to kick himself. "Is it terrible that after seven years I'm still not accustomed to getting presents?"

Snape shook his head and gestured to the pile of gifts. "No. If you prefer, we can send these through the floo to your rooms, but I would like to be present, at least, when you open my gift, as it will require some explanation."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the small mountain. "I'd rather just get it out of the way, otherwise I'm sure I'll forget again." Snape smirked and sat back as Harry reached for the first gift.

A half an hour later, Harry sat in a small cocoon of books and sweets. Most of the books were from Hermione and the staff, though Charlie had sent one on dragons, and the sweets were from the rest of the Weasley family and Hagrid. Along with these, he had received a new set of wand holsters, one for his wrist and another for his calf, from Albus; Draco had bought him a rather expensive looking cloak (making him glad he had gone ahead and bought the silver-haired Slytherin an attractive dagger set); Poppy had given him a magical first aid kit; and, of course, there was his annual Weasley sweater. He reached for the last gift, a small box wrapped sparsely in brown paper, and looked expectantly at the Potions Master, who summoned a slightly bigger box wrapped in dark green paper.

"You go first," Harry insisted.

Snape rolled his eyes, but looked at the gift in his lap. Harry wanted to laugh as the man simply tore the paper off, having always thought of the Slytherin as the sort to unwrap a present as precisely as it had been wrapped. He held his breath as Snape took out a case of labeled crystal phials filled with ingredients.

"They're from the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry explained. "I had no idea how to go about collecting it all, since practically all of it has some form of poison or other, but Draco's father leant me a House Elf who works in ingredient collection for one of his apothecaries. I figured, if you wanted, we could go down in the Summer to get the rest. The corpse is amazingly well-preserved down there."

Snape carefully set the gift aside. "Thank you, Harry. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this gift. These are incredibly rare ingredients, and could help me make strides in my experiments."

The green eyed Gryffindor blushed. "I'd hoped you'd like it."

After another moment of studying his Christmas present, Severus turned to Harry expectantly. "I believe it is now your turn, Professor Potter."

Harry started, having forgotten he still had Severus' gift left to open. He ripped off the brown paper and opened the box. He rolled his eyes as he pulled a second box, a jewelry box, from inside, and looked at the Potions Master with the man's own trademarked raised eyebrow.

"Honestly? A box within a box?"

He received a smirk in response. Rolling his eyes again, he opened the black velvet box to reveal a pair of cuff links with Griffins on them. He couldn't help the confusion that crested over his features, making Severus chuckle.

"You'll be surprised to learn, Mister Potter, that I do not have eyes all over my classroom, excepting the ingredients in jars. These cuff links are spelled the same as a pair I own, with an awareness spell. They are specifically designed to tell you when there is mischief afoot nearby. They have a range of fifty feet, and whilst they cannot tell you who is doing what, that will come with time as well," The Slytherin Head of House explained, looking amused.

Harry studied the gift, somewhat amazed. "So, in other words, you knew every time Malfoy was being a prat and sabotaging my potions, and you deliberately ignored it."

That infuriating smirk again. "You could say that."

The Defense Instructor smiled warmly at the older wizard. "Git."

"Brat."

They stared at each other, a tenderness in their words and their gaze. The moment was interrupted when the clock on the mantle began to chime softly. Harry looked to it and groaned. He turned back to the Potions Master.

"I should go and put these in my rooms, before we're late for dinner," He said, standing.

Severus scoffed. "Honestly, one would think you were new to the Wizarding World, Harry." He snapped his fingers, and immediately Dobby appeared, ready to please, but no longer as hyper as he had once been. "Dobby, if you would, Mister Potter needs his gifts taken to his rooms."

The elf grinned. "Of course, Master Severus Snape, sir, Dobby be glad to help with Master Harry Potter's things." With a snap of the elf's tiny fingers, all of Harry's gifts vanished. Another snap had the wrapping paper and boxes disappearing as well. All that remained was Harry's gift to the Potions Master. "Master's had best to be getting to dinner," The elf said excitedly. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, is going to announce Master Harry Potter's promotion to full-teacher!"

Harry chuckled as the elf disappeared as quickly as he had come, then looked to Severus, who was still sitting. "I guess we should go."

Snape groaned. "Must we? The students are always so much worse when they return from the Holiday."

Harry chuckled again. "Yes, we must. You know Albus expects us both there; otherwise I'd skive off as well. Now, come on." He reached down, offering his hand to the Slytherin. After a moment, it was grasped with a deep-suffering sigh, and Harry helped the man to stand. He fought down a blush as he realized how close they were standing as a consequence.

Neither of them moved, their hands still grasped between them as black eyes bored into green. Severus shifted forward slightly, and Harry found himself leaning up under that dark gaze. The clock chimed again, startling the two men apart. They each looked away from one another's searching eyes.

"We should go," Snape said quietly. "We'll be late."

Harry nodded and led the way out of the man's apartments, fighting to keep his blush from rising to his cheeks. Well, at least he knew the smolder wasn't _entirely_ gone.


	24. Chapter 24

The students cheered raucously when Albus finished his announcement of Harry's completion of his NEWT's and subsequent promotion. It warmed Harry's heart to see even the First Years, who always seemed slightly scared of him, shouting their pleasure as well. For the first time, he wondered if maybe the students weren't happy for _him_ , but for what he represented as a successful seventeen year old.

"Stop that," Snape whispered from where he stood beside him. "They are happy for you, don't overthink it so much."

Harry frowned at the man who always seemed to know what he was thinking. "I thought you said you _couldn't_ read my mind," He pointed out playfully.

The Potions Master very calmly reached over and pinched the tender skin on the back of the Gryffindor's hand. "It's written all over your face, Brat."

Rubbing his hand to alleviate the pain, Harry glared at his colleague. "That hurt."

Snape gave him a side-long smirk. "It was meant to."

They returned to staring out over the crowd of students at the four House tables until Albus gestured for everyone to retake their seats. When they sat, Harry suddenly realized that he had been told before that he'd be sitting by Hagrid, who was at the opposite end of the table. He turned to the Slytherin beside him.

"Do you get the feeling we're being manipulated?" He asked, separating his carrots and peas automatically.

Snape smirked. "Whatever gave you that idea? The fact that Albus put us next to one another, or the fact that he has been staring at us out of the corner of his eye since we arrived?"

Harry shrugged. "Both. The real question is whether he did it out of a desire to help, or because he's dying to know what caused us to fight in the first place and wants us to cause a scene." The typical raised eyebrow. Harry smiled. "Yeah, you're right, s'probably both."

"Undoubtedly," Severus answered gravely.

They both reached for the nearest gravy boat at the same time and their hands met in the middle. They pulled away quickly, and Harry blushed. He gestured for the man to go first. Despite the closeness they had shared earlier, when they were alone, Snape was still sitting away from him, and was clearly not ready to address the pachyderm that stood between them. It almost made Harry wish for the days of the past, before the new DA, when he'd at least known where they stood with one another. At least, when they'd been friends and moving towards more, it had been a pleasant sort of frustrating confusion as to where they stood. Now, it seemed as if Snape wasn't sure himself as to whether or not they could return to their new normal.

Harry sighed as Snape passed him the dish, now careful himself lest their fingers touch. If the man didn't want contact, then he'd oblige, even if it hurt to think of just a half hour ago when the man had easily taken his hand. He only hoped that this uncertainty between them wouldn't affect his students. The last thing he needed was his reputation as a teacher to start with the tale of how much of an awkward dunce he was in the classroom.

Suddenly without an appetite, Harry picked at his plate mournfully. He had thought that Snape's offer to keep him company today while they graded had been his way of burying the hatchet, but that was obviously wrong. And, Harry supposed, the man had still not come out and _said_ , in any sense, that he was forgiven. It wasn't possible that Harry had imagined the entire day of easy smiles and joking comments about the contents of the essays, but it _was_ possible that Snape was only being nice because he didn't want Harry telling anyone about the cause of their…disagreement.

This thought gave Harry pause, and he glanced over at the Potions Master, who was busy talking with Filius. Was that the real reason behind Snape's kindness today; because he didn't want Harry to spill his dark secret from the past? It wasn't a hard thing to think the man capable of, he was the Head of Slytherin, after all. Harry sighed again as he returned to pushing his food around his plate. Well, if that was the reason, then he'd take what he could get. Maybe it was a false friendship at this point, but it was still the closest one he had until his friends graduated. Giving up on enjoying his dinner, Harry stood and left the table, ignoring the questioning looks from his fellow professor's, especially the dark gaze of the resident Potions Master.


	25. Chapter 25

Harry's concerns about the classroom dynamic had turned out to be well-founded. There was obviously tension between them (the students had taken to whispering that "mum and dad" were fighting), though one would have to look closely to find real evidence of what exactly had changed. Where before they had walked the room together, separating only when one or more students needed assistance, they now walked on opposite sides of the room, meeting in the middle only to pass silently by one another; where there had once been playful banter, there was now serious discussion over the day's topic, or that month's special Saturday course; and, of course, where there had been lingering looks across the room, they now willfully avoided eye contact unless they were discussing work.

It was their behavior outside of Harry's classes that the students first noticed any real difference. Unless at meals or in class, they were almost never together now, not even to discuss said classes; the playfulness of the Potions Master was gone entirely, replaced by the Snarky Git from years past; and even Professor Potter had adopted a no-nonsense attitude that put pursed-lips McGonagall to shame. More than once, a student who had been caught at mischief by either professor would remark that they missed the days when the two had constantly been butting heads, when Harry was still a student.

"At least back then we didn't have to worry about having _two_ professors with their heads up their asses."

It was this general opinion of the student body that eventually forced the Headmaster to confront the two only a few weeks into the new semester. He called them both to his office at Lunch and stared at them gravely over his desk. They each stared back, blank-faced.

"I don't know what has caused this rift between you," The Headmaster started.

Harry scowled. "Headmaster, I really don't-" He stopped when the aged wizard raised a hand for silence.

"I do not know, nor do I care." The man said seriously, the twinkle gone from his impossibly blue eyes. "You may not realize it, but your behavior has begun to affect your pupils! Severus, over the years I have come to expect a certain level of dislike from your students, but even your own House has become afraid to approach you for something." He paused and glared between the two of them. "I. Will. Not. Stand for this! Something has to be done, and because you are both too stubborn to take matters into your own hands, it has fallen to me. Because there has been no real infraction from either of you, I cannot place you on Probation, though I am sorely tempted."

Both men paled.

"Headmaster, you can't-"

"Albus, this is hardly a matter-"

Again, the man raised a hand for silence, interrupting them both. "As I said, I cannot place you on probation without any real infraction. However, I _can_ force you to talk, whether you like it or not. You are both to remain here until such a time as you have worked out your differences, am I understood?"

Both men nodded as that disconcerting blue gaze moved to them each in turn. Suddenly, the old Headmaster grinned, the twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Good!" He rubbed his hands together jovially. "It's been quite some time since I joined Minerva for tea, and I think it's time to remedy that." And with that, the manipulative old man rose from his desk and left the two powerful wizards alone in his office.

Harry sighed and sat in one of the armchairs in front of the large desk. A part of him was pissed that the old man was intervening in his life, again, but a larger part was glad that now Severus would be forced to say why he'd been so distant with him. He looked at the Potions Master, who remained standing, and decided to break the silence first.

"How are your experiments going?" He asked idly.

Snape looked at him in surprise. "They are going well, thank you. Your Christmas gift has been quite useful."

"I'm glad," Harry said softly.

They remained in awkward silence for a long, drawn out moment before Severus growled angrily. "Harry, this is ridiculous."

The Defense Instructor gaped at the man. "Me? But you're the one who-" He stopped when the man raised a challenging eyebrow. He scowled. Technically, he _had_ been the one to start cancelling engagements. "Alright, fine, maybe I have been distancing myself from you, but you can hardly blame me. I simply decided that no friendship was better than a false one."

"What in the hell are you talking about, Potter? I was the one making an effort, whereas you were always 'too busy'." The Potions Master countered.

"Making an effort to keep me quiet," Harry hissed. "You didn't want me dredging up your past, which I can understand, but don't insult me by claiming to have tried to keep our friendship going when you couldn't even be bothered to accept my apology."

"I _did_ accept your apology, Potter, don't be an idiot!"

"If so you failed to tell me!" Harry shouted, getting truly angry now. "And if you really had, then why have you caused this distance between us, huh? It's not me who sits on the edge of my chair at meals to avoid getting too close! It's not _me_ who flinches away if our shoulders brush, or pulls back as if you'd been burned when our elbows touch at meals. It isn't _me_ who moves to the other side of the _corridor_ when we pass! You've even gone so far as _moving_ if I sit too close to you in the Lounge! If you've forgiven me, then why the hell can't you stand being near me?!"

"Because it's my fault you were in that corridor!" Severus roared angrily. Harry was stunned to silence. "I'm the one who found you that day, and I have never been so scared in my life, as when I saw you lying unconscious next to that Weasley bastard. And when you told me the extent of what that vile waste of human life tried to do-" He stopped and turned away from Harry. "I won't be the cause of anymore pain, not to you. I won't make you relive that idiot boy's touch, even if it means I never get to touch you again myself."

Harry sat, staring at the man, utterly gob-smacked. After a moment, he stood from his chair and walked over to the Potions Master. He put a hand on one hunched shoulder, ignoring the flinch it caused, and forced the man to turn and face him.

"Severus, look at me," He commanded. Black eyes lifted to meet his. "That is the single most ridiculous thing you have ever said." The man scowled. "I'm serious. Have I _ever_ done or said _anything_ to suggest that your touch was unwanted?"

The Slytherin only glared at him silently.

"I want an answer, Severus, and we both know that I damn well deserve one."

Finally, the man shook his head minutely. "No," He ground out through clenched teeth.

Harry nodded. "Right, so, nothing _I've_ done could make you think that. So that leaves you, Severus. Are you _planning_ to rape me? Are you hiding your own Mr. Hyde potion down in the dungeons, and are afraid that by touching me it will cause the animal to rise and force you upon me?"

The scowl deepened. "Harry, that is-"

"Stupid? Ridiculous? Absolutely and completely fucking bonkers?" Harry demanded. "You're damn right it is! What the bloody hell were you thinking?! Firstly, what Ron did to me, and tried to do, are purely the fault of that prick, no one else's. My reasons for being in that corridor don't matter, because he would have tried to do something eventually anyway. He's thick, nothing would have stopped him until he'd pushed as far as he could go, which he did. Secondly, you are not Ron, nor are you Remus! Hell, even Remus wasn't like that when he was _sober_! He had his _tongue_ down my _throat_ and it didn't trigger flashbacks, so you and me occasionally rubbing elbows sure as hell isn't going to! I'm not some fragile flower to be tended to with care; if I was, I'd hardly be a good Defense Instructor would I? You need to get over yourself, Severus, because nothing that happened to me that day was your fault."

Stubborn black eyes looked away and Harry groaned with frustration, turning his back on the man.

"Fine, if you want to be an idiot then be one. _You_ can explain to Dumbledore why we can't go back to the way things were, because I'm done." He stood with his back to Severus, absolutely fuming. He couldn't believe that this whole time he'd thought _he'd_ been the one to cause the rift between them, when all this time the Potions Master was just being a goddamned martyr.

Harry was forced to fight the urge to jump slightly when a hand touched his shoulder cautiously, then more firmly before sliding soothingly up and down his tense bicep. He uncrossed his arms and turned to face the foolish Slytherin. The man was still avoiding his gaze, but Harry could feel a difference in it now.

"I'm…sorry." Snape grimaced as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth, making Harry smile.

"You should be, you git," He murmured as black eyes rose to stare into his. A hand cupped his cheek and he reached up to hold it there against his warm skin. "I thought you hated me, and were just pretending to be nice so I wouldn't spill your secret across the school."

Severus smirked. "It isn't much of a secret, considering it was years ago," The smirk slowly disappeared. "I am sorry, Harry, for the last few weeks, and for my reaction that day. That was a very dark time in my life, and seeing that letter brought back some terrible memories for me. I never imagined that anyone would ever see it, after I realized Minerva hadn't, and when I discovered that you _had_ …my reaction was not because I felt betrayed. You're a Gryffindor, I could hardly blame you for being curious about what should have been harmless notes." He rubbed his thumb gently over Harry's cheekbone. "I was angry because I didn't want you to see my weakness. I had thought that, if you knew about that part of my life, you would turn away from me. I only realized after I'd stormed off that you'd had the note for months and that it had been the thing that brought you to me to begin with. I had gone looking for you to apologize, and it led me to the corridor outside your rooms. When I saw you lying broken and bleeding on the floor, I couldn't help but think that it was my fault for overreacting. This was made worse when you used your typical Gryffindor bull-headedness and walked down to my rooms before you were fully recovered."

The Gryffindor smirked. "You're forgiven, Git. Next time, just talk to me. I'm not as easily broken as you seem to think."

Snape raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Excepting, of course, the multitude of broken bones you've suffered during your lifetime."

Harry gaped, feigning hurt. "There haven't been _that_ many." The eyebrow rose a little further, making him chuckle appreciatively. "Alright, there have been. You win, Sev'rus."

The Potions Master scowled playfully. "I believe I said I _didn't_ want any foolish nicknames, Potter."

"Technically," Harry said, grinning. "It isn't a nickname, just a shortened version of your name." He slid his hand down to wrap his fingers around the pulse point at the Slytherin's wrist. "If you don't like it, I could always call you Sev, instead, or 'Rus."

Severus wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I will allow it, then, if only to prevent you shortening my name further."

Fathomless black eyes stared adoringly down into vibrant green, and Harry's breath hitched. He could feel the distance between them getting smaller, and thought perhaps this would finally be the thing to break that final chord of underlying tension between them. Their breath mingled in the diminishing space between them, their mouths slightly open in anticipation. Harry felt his lids grow heavy with the desire flooding his system.

"Well, my boys, I certainly hope that this time together has been fruitful."

Harry jumped at the intrusion, and realized Snape had already moved away from him.

"It has, Albus." Severus told the aggravating wizard in the doorway.

Harry put on a grin as he faced his employer. "Yep, turns out we're both dunderheads," He added lightly, earning him a teasing scowl from his friend.

The chipper Headmaster grinned at them, his eyes twinkling maddeningly. "I'm glad. However, I'm afraid I do require my office now. Letters that won't write themselves, you see."

"Of course, Headmaster," Harry said. He moved to the door with Severus at his side. "We won't keep you from your work any longer. Thank you, for allowing us use of your office."

"Not at all, Harry," The old wizard said nonchalantly. "Perhaps one of these days you might actually call me 'Albus'."

Harry smiled playfully as Snape moved past him and out the door. "One day." With a final wave goodbye, he followed the Potions Master to the revolving stairs. The man looked up at him as they moved slowly down towards the gargoyle.

"I have a class, but perhaps tonight we could get together for some coffee? I could help with your grading, if you like. We still need to discuss this Saturday's Herbology/Defense course, and I had some points to bring up about your First and Second Year Saturday class next week," Severus suggested quietly.

Harry smiled. "Sure, Sev'rus. Your rooms or mine?"

"Yours," Severus said immediately. "I'm afraid my rooms are a mess, as your gift has left me time for little else besides brewing."

The smile blossomed into a grin. "I'd hate to think what they'll look like after we gather the rest of the snake this summer."

Severus smirked. "I shudder to think."

They parted ways in front of the gargoyle with a final, lingering look.


	26. Chapter 26

Harry smiled as he walked down the steps to the dungeons. It had been a few weeks since Albus had forced him and Severus to hash out the invisible strain pulling them apart. Since then, they had become even closer. The students, of course, had no idea of what had caused them to fight, nor what had mended the bond that had been torn by foolish pride. However, they seemed grateful for it, as productivity in the Defense Classroom was higher than it had ever been.

It was this very reason Harry was headed to the dungeons. It being a Friday night, he hoped to drag his friend away from his endless experiments to get a celebratory drink in the pub. There were only two months left in the term, and at this rate it looked as though his time as a probationary instructor was going to be an unqualified success.

The Defense Instructor walked into the cool dungeon quarters of his friend. It had been picked up since the last time he'd been here, thanks to Harry convincing Severus to utilize the House Elves the school put at his disposal. Realizing Severus wasn't in the living room, and the light in the kitchenette was off, Harry moved towards the back hall to see if he was in his lab (again). If he was, he'd slip a note under the door and settle onto the couch in wait.

Harry looked around the corner of the open doorway and had to pull back as his quarry very nearly slammed into him. He grinned.

"Hi," He greeted the man, chuckling. "I came to see if you were busy."

Severus smirked. "I set up a spell that alerted me to your entry. I'm actually finishing my latest experiment."

Harry continued to chuckle as he reached up and swiped some unknown powder from an aristocratic cheekbone. "I can tell. How long do you think you'll be?"

"I can spare a few moments," Snape said evenly, leaning against the partition wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I _was_ hoping for more than just 'a few moments' with you," Harry murmured, stepping closer.

A prim eyebrow rose curiously. "Were you, Mister Potter? What did you have in mind?"

Harry shrugged, grinning. "You, me, a quiet corner booth at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head. I just finished grading the student quizzes with Remus, and not a single student got lower than an A. I thought we could celebrate."

"Hm," Severus hummed contemplatively and reached out. His fingers curled in the front of Harry's teaching robes and dragged him forward. "Or we could stay in, celebrate your success more privately." He suggested in a gentle purr.

Harry had to force himself not to blush. This was the first truly suggestive thing Severus had done since their fight. "Y-yeah," He mumbled. "We could definitely do that."

He started to lean forward slightly, but found himself shoved to the ground, Severus on top of him, when the private lab around the corner exploded spectacularly. He groaned past the ringing in his ears and sat up as Severus rolled off of him.

"Perhaps I should've added the toad bile _after_ the Basilisk venom," Snape mumbled, sitting up beside him.

The Gryffindor couldn't stop a snort. "I-" He gasped as a sudden bout of laughter overtook him, wracking his shoulders with mirth. "I can't believe _you_ just blew up your own lab!" He buried his face in his knees as he continued to laugh, gasping for air.

"It isn't _that_ funny," Severus mumbled.

Harry could hear the slight smile in his voice, and wasn't disappointed when he looked up to see the man smirking. "It really is," He replied, tears leaking from his eyes. "All your warnings in class about measuring exactly and being sure of your steps, and you blow up your own lab! It's hilarious!" He let himself be lifted to his feet, a bit unsteadily, and tried to swallow his laughter. "Do you want some help cleaning up?"

Snape shook his head, looking at the blast marks on the wall beyond the partition. "I'll leave it to the House Elves. They know to salvage what they can. This isn't the first time my experiments have ended in disaster," He said a bit mournfully. "All my work, especially my notes…gone. Thank Merlin for anti-shattering spells on my ingredient jars and phials, or I'd have lost all of those as well."

"You do have back-up notes, don't you?" Harry asked in concern, falling prey to the seriousness of the situation.

"I do," Severus agreed. "But I hadn't copied any of today's work yet." He turned, brightening. "However, it appears I am now free for the evening. You said something about drinks at the Hog's Head?"

Harry grinned and looped his arm with the Potions Master's, turning towards the door. "I did, in fact. We can celebrate your failure as well as my success."

"Why would we celebrate failure?" Snape asked sourly as Harry led him out into the corridor.

"Because without failure we would never learn, obviously," The Gryffindor answered. "You can't get anything from nothing. That's why they're called 'experiments'."

Snape smirked and looked at him fondly as they made their way out of the dungeons. "You have an exceptionally enthusiastic approach to life, Professor Potter."

Harry grinned. "Well, we can't _all_ be dour Potions Masters who think the world is full of morons and degenerates."

"Why, you-I have half a mind to bend you over my knee, you cheeky brat," Snape said, feigning offence.

"Maybe later," Harry whispered with a saucy wink.


	27. Chapter 27

Mirrors. What the _hell_ had he been thinking?

The idea, of course, had been to teach the Sixth Years how to overcome an enemy, should they find themselves outmatched or outnumbered. It was a trick Harry had discovered just last year in a dusty old tome in the Library. Normal mirrors, even ones spelled not to break, would shatter if a powerful enough spell hit them. However, in the intricacies of magic, _conjured_ mirrors would rebound the spell with only some minor scorching to show for it.

Unfortunately, Harry had seriously overestimated his students' abilities to project their spells in the right direction. He had had enough foresight to limit them to first year spells only, but this didn't stop the chaos of his students conjuring too many mirrors at once. More than once, he'd been forced to cast a hasty shield as someone's spell ran amuck of two or three mirrors, instead of just the one the student had been aiming at.

And then Taurus, the overconfident Ravenclaw girl, happened. From what Harry could tell, she had actually _intended_ to use a few of her classmates' mirrors. Of course, the law of consequence had the spell ricocheting around the room off of practically every mirror the other students had conjured. The students who hadn't been smart enough to flee the classroom in terror, were now huddled on the floor, covering their heads, while Harry tried to banish the mirrors around the room without getting hit, and without letting the spell, which had not diminished in speed or power, hit one of his pupils.

"Harry, watch-"

The Defense Professor turned at Severus' warning to see that one innovative student had conjured a mirror above their body (rather than a shield, as the others had done), and the mild cutting hex was speeding towards him. There wasn't time to cast a shield, so he tried to duck out of the way. He managed, barely, breaking his nose on the cobblestone floor when he failed to catch himself. The spell struck the window he'd been standing in front of, shattering it. The students beneath it were thankfully protected by their shields, and his own thick robes protected him. When the glass had stopped falling, he stood slowly, and brushed the shards from his robes carefully before repairing the window.

"It's safe, you can get up," Harry called to his remaining students. With a wave of his wand, he banished what was left of the mirrors, including the one the idiot student had conjured. He scowled to see that it was the same Ravenclaw to cause this mess. Of course it was. "Taurus, you will have detention with Filch this evening for not following directions, and you've lost your House 20 points for your reckless endangerment of your fellow students, and another 10 for casting a mirror instead of a shield, as I instructed."

"But, sir, I-"

"Class dismissed. Tell your classmates that you are all to give me six inches on _why_ we do not intentionally misfire dangerous spells in the Defense Classroom," Harry ordered to the rest of the class, putting a hand to his bleeding nose. There were several groans as the Sixth Years picked themselves and their friends up off of the floor, and more than one glare sent in Taurus' direction.

"Sir, I really-I never meant-"

"Just!" Harry growled. He took a steadying breath. "Just go, before I agree to let Filch torture you with the _old_ detention traditions."

The young girl was smart enough to squeak with terror before rushing out of the room with the rest of the students. Harry sighed and walked towards his desk. He glanced at his hand, grimaced at the blood he found, then returned to pinching his bridge to stem the flow with another sigh. He leaned back against the front of his desk in exasperation.

"I thought you handled that rather well."

Harry jumped slightly. He'd forgotten Severus was still here as well. He smirked at his friend. "I was _sorely_ tempted to blow up like you used to," The Gryffindor admitted. "The names I could have spouted…I no longer have to wonder where you always drew your cruel name-calling from. When you're pissed off enough, you'll think of plenty."

Severus smirked and came over, standing directly in front of him. He reached up and pulled Harry's hand away. "Let me see," He murmured, leaning in especially close.

Harry couldn't help a blush at the proximity, despite the blood gushing from his nostrils. "It's nothing, I can heal it myself."

Severus continued to smirk as he raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "Knowing you, you may very well poke your own eye out with your wand if you tried."

"Would not," Harry muttered petulantly as Snape drew his wand. The blood vanished with a whispered spell, and Harry gasped in pain as his nose was reset and healed with a second spell. He glared up at the Potions Master. "That really hurt."

The smirk softened to a gentle smile. "My apologies, Mister Potter." Harry closed his eyes as a thumb brushed over the freshly healed bridge of his nose. "All better."

Harry looked up in surprise when he felt cool lips brush the tip of his nose. Snape only stood there, barely a few inches away. Deciding it was in his head, Harry smirked. "Whatever would I do without you, Professor Snape?"

The Slytherin smirked again. "Perish in a horribly mangled mess of your own creation, I'd imagine."

Harry grinned and reached out, pulling the man against him. "Would not," He muttered as the space between their lips began to diminish.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry blushed and cleared his throat, pulling away sharply. "N-nothing," He said, turning to Remus.

"I'm not blind, Harry," The werewolf snarled. He turned to stalk from the classroom, and Harry dislodged himself from between his desk and Severus to follow the upset older Gryffindor.

"Moony, no, wait, this isn't-" He reached out and grabbed his honorary godfather's hand. Things had been strained between them since the attempted kiss, with Remus trying overly hard to make up for it with almost-daily gifts. The werewolf rounded on him, obviously expecting an explanation. "There's _nothing_ going on between us, I swear. Tell him, Severus." Harry looked back to see Snape leaning against the desk, his head hung in exasperation.

When the man looked up, it was with obviously feigned innocence. "Not a thing, Wolf."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to find his godfather still scowling. "Then what were you doing, because it looked an awful lot like kissing."

Harry resisted the urge to mutter 'I wish'. "We were just talking, and Severus was healing my nose. There was a mishap with one of the Sixth Years and my nose got broken in the chaos, that's all."

The werewolf harrumphed, making Harry scowl. Why was he defending himself? Remus didn't have any claim on him, why should he lie about his behavior with another man?

"Why does it even matter?" He asked his godfather accusingly.

Remus growled. "This is a _classroom_ , Harry, it requires a little respect! It's not your playground, and it is not here for you to have a shag in-between classes!"

Harry's scowl darkened. "I know that, Remus! Don't be an idiot! I _would_ never misuse _my_ classroom like that!"

The werewolf had the nerve to scoff. "I'm sure. You're a professor and an adult, now, Harry, it's time you started _acting_ like it and stop behaving like a child."

Harry gasped, feeling as though he'd been slapped, as Remus stormed from the room. How could he say such a thing? Aside from today's mishap, Harry had thought things had been going great with him as the full-time Defense Professor. What had he done wrong? Where had he messed up?

" _Never_?" Snape hissed in his ear from behind.

The Gryffindor frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't you have a Potions class in a few minutes?"

A gentle, long-fingered had rubbed his bicep soothingly. "Ignore him, Harry," Severus instructed softly, still whispering into his ear. "You've so far been very responsible in your role as a professor."

Harry slumped slightly and sighed. "Then why would he say that, Severus? I thought I was doing a good job, but he thinks I'm acting like a child."

"You're doing a _great_ job, Harry," Severus insisted. "Lupin is only upset because he's been attempting to woo you the last few months with no success."

Harry turned to look at his friend in surprise. " _That's_ why he's been acting so awkward and giving me gifts?"

Snape smirked. "You really are clueless sometimes, Harry. Yes, that is the cause for his recent behavior. He only said what he did because he is jealous of our closeness and lashing out. It has nothing to do with you, nor your ability to run your classroom." He pulled Harry into a hug, which the younger man immediately returned gratefully.

"Thanks, Sev'rus," Harry murmured into his friends chest. "I know he doesn't mean it, but it still hurts."

"I know it does, Harry," Snape said, nodding against the top of his head. "However, I am sure that by dinner he will come to regret his words, and apologize. If he doesn't, I'll hunt him down myself."

Harry smiled, pulling back slightly. "You're a good friend." He looked away as Snape leaned towards him. The mood was gone. "You really do have a class in a few minutes, though."

Severus seemed unoffended by the small rejection. "You're sure you'll be alright."

The Defense Instructor forced a grin. "'Course. I'm a Gryffindor, nothing bothers us. Now go, Severus Snape is never late."

Snape scowled playfully, leaned over, and placed a chaste kiss on Harry's forehead. "Brat," He muttered fondly.

Harry no longer had to force his grin. "Git. Go," He shooed the older wizard. "I'll be fine."

With a last searching look, the Potions Master finally left the Defense Classroom, headed towards his own. When he was gone, Harry allowed himself to slump. Despite what he'd said, he still wondered if there wasn't some truth to Remus' words, if he wasn't fooling himself about how well things were going. He also couldn't help thinking about what Severus had said about the werewolf being jealous. He could see, _now_ , how the man's behavior could be construed as lovesick, but it didn't mean he liked or understood it. He'd made himself perfectly clear about his feelings for the man, why couldn't he just take the hint? With a put upon sigh, Harry shoved these thoughts from his mind and turned instead to the mind-numbing work of grading First Year essays.


	28. Chapter 28

Remus did eventually apologize for his thoughtless words. Unfortunately, the apology did not come without strings. At first, it had seemed as though he sincerely wanted to apologize by buying Harry dinner. Unfortunately, the clueless young Defense Instructor agreed. Only while they were out did he realize what a fool he had been.

"Isn't this nice, Harry?" Remus asked innocently.

Harry smiled. "Yeah, Remus, it is. I can't believe I never tried this restaurant before. I didn't even realize it was here."

"Well, you know, Harry, I know of a lot of nice places we could visit together," Remus suggested nervously.

Harry frowned slightly. "That could be fun, I suppose." He said carefully.

Remus grinned. "Really? Because, I was thinking, if you haven't got plans for the summer, maybe we could get away, just the two of us. I've spent some time in Paris, and I think you'd-"

"Remus," Harry interrupted, scowling. "We've discussed this. I'm not interested in you that way."

"I-I know," The older man stammered nervously. "I just thought, that, perhaps if we spent more _time_ together, without any distractions or anything, maybe you could-" He reached across the table for Harry's hand, which was pulled out of reach.

"No, Remus." Harry said firmly. "It's nothing against you, but I won't ever feel that way towards you. You're like my _dad_ , I could never feel romantically for a man I see in such a light." He stood, dropping his napkin onto his plate. "Thank you, for dinner. I'll see you back at the school."

Harry turned to leave, but turned when a strong hand gripped his wrist. "Harry please, just…give me a chance?"

"I said, 'no', Remmy," Harry said in a low voice to stop the other diners overhearing. He pulled his arm free and left the restaurant. Out in the dimly lit streets of Hogsmeade, he shivered slightly. Despite it being spring, the wind carried a chill in the light of the setting sun. Wrapping his robes more tightly around himself, Harry started towards Hogwarts.

The walk was a long one. The restaurant had been on the other side of the village, far from the lane of shops frequented by the students of the school. He'd just made it past the boundary wall of the little wizarding community when Remus caught up to him.

"Harry, wait, please!"

Ignoring his instinct to keep walking, Harry turned and waited as his godfather jogged after him. He scowled when the man caught up.

"What, Remus? I think we've both said enough tonight."

"I'm sorry, Harry, I really am. Can I-can I just walk you back?" The werewolf asked almost pleadingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think we already did that once." In spite of these words, which were really more of a veiled warning, he turned back towards the school.

They walked together in silence towards the gates of Hogwarts. When Remus finally spoke, as Harry knew he would, it was with barely concealed anger.

"It's Snivellus, isn't it," The man spat. "That's why you won't even give me a chance. He's poisoned you against me, in revenge for all the shit your dad, Siri, and I put him through when we were kids.

Harry scoffed. "From what I've heard, he'd have every right…but, no, he hasn't said or done anything to turn me against you. And I'm not 'against you' I just don't want to _date_ you. I'm perfectly okay being your friend."

"How do you even know you don't like me if you never give me a chance?" Remus demanded. "I'm better than Severus, and I could show you a really good time, if you just gave me a _chance_! You said yourself that there isn't anything going on between the two of you, so what's wrong with giving me a shot?"

Harry scowled and sped up, walking ahead of the man. "I'm not getting into this again, Remus. You have my answer, and that should be enough for you."

Remus surprised him by grabbing his arm again and swinging him against a nearby tree. "Just give me a chance, Harry!"

Harry, growing angry, struggled against the hold Remus had on him. He didn't want to use his magic, it was still very sporadic without his wand, but he could already feel his animagus form deep down, preparing to jump to his defense. Without thinking, he turned his head and bit at the hard hand pressing against his shoulder. Remus retaliated to this with a howl, and a backhand that sent Harry sprawling into the grass. Immediately, the tension of the moment vanished.

"Oh, geez, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-Why did you have to struggle? I just wanted to- Oh Merlin, your eye. I'm so, so sorry, Prongslet, I never-"

Harry looked up through his swelling eye and spat blood from where he'd bit his cheek. "You know, Remus," He pushed himself to his feet. "The first time, it was sort of humorous in a 'he's just being a drunken idiot' kind of way." He slowly drew his wand from his sleeve. "This time? Not nearly as funny." Casting a serious of spells, he watched as his honorary godfather was flipped upside down, a magical rope binding his ankle to a branch of the tree Harry had been slammed against. Harry deliberately walked over to the man and plucked the wand from his dangling sleeve as Remus stammered a protest.

"You can collect this," Harry said, waving the wand in the man's face. "From the Headmaster's office, where you can also resign from my class. I think I can handle the Seventh Years on my own from here on. Once you've given up on this foolish idea of me _ever_ going out with you, you can apologize, and we'll _talk_ about me _maybe_ taking you back as my _friend_. For now, I bid you adieu. The spell will wear off in about an hour. That should give you plenty of time to think about your actions."

The werewolf had enough sense of mind to look properly ashamed and remain silent as Harry walked away.


	29. Chapter 29

After stopping by the Seventh Floor to drop off Remus's wand with their esteemed Headmaster (who had seemed very upset with the short summary Harry gave him about the night's events), Harry walked back to his quarters, ignoring the whispers from the students he passed. As he walked down the corridor towards his quarters, he had to fight off a shudder as he recalled Ron's actions at Christmas, and Remus' actions at New Years. He didn't really want to be alone with these disturbing memories, but he wanted to see Severus even less while his face was like this. The man would no doubt go hunting Remus, and Harry had left the werewolf completely undefended.

Unfortunately, Harry had forgotten that Severus always seemed to know when he was needed. He walked into his quarters to find the Potions Master reading on his couch. Severus looked up upon his entry and immediately scowled.

"What-?"

"He wasn't drunk this time," Harry answered bitterly. "Coffee?"

As expected, Snape stood and followed him into the kitchenette. "Where is he?" The man demanded.

Harry smirked a little proudly. "Currently? Dangling by his ankle in a tree, most likely regretting this entire evening."

"Are you alright?"

Harry turned to the Potions Master with a grin. "A little shaken, but not stirred."

"Harry-"

"Really, Severus," Harry insisted, his grin slipping. "I'll be okay. I can't go through my life afraid to let things get a little rough. Besides, I handled it, didn't I? And anyway, I'm getting better. I didn't think about Ron at all until I was walking back."

Snape frowned. "Do you want me to heal you?"

"I'd be grateful," Harry said, still trying to smile. He closed his eyes as Snape drew his wand, and when he opened them again the pain in his cheek and eye were gone. "There, good as new."

Snape was still frowning. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry turned back to fixing them both coffee and shook his head. "Not really. It happened, and it's over…I'd rather just move on." He pushed past his friend, back into his living area. "We can, however, talk about anything else."

They sat as one on the couch, both nursing their coffee. They did not, in fact, talk about anything for the next several moments. Harry found he could think of nothing to say, and when he looked over, Severus seemed lost in thought. Finally, wanting to say anything, he brought up the one thing he hadn't planned to tell anyone about.

"Charlie asked me out again," He murmured into his cup.

Severus looked at him sharply. "What did you say?"

Harry shrugged, leaning over to set his cup on his coffee table. "I haven't yet, actually. I asked him to let me think about it," He admitted, leaning back against the couch and staring at his hands in his lap. "He was really sweet, though. He apologized for his behavior over Christmas, and told me that he was going to be in town next weekend, asked if we could get together. He even offered to let me pick the place."

"Tell him 'no', Harry," Snape demanded almost pleadingly.

Harry looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "Why?" He queried softly. "I have to do _something_ , Severus. The longer I'm single the more I'll have to put up with people fawning over my changed body."

Severus frowned and looked away. "He doesn't deserve you, Harry. You said yourself that he never looked at you twice before you took the potions. Besides, I…" He trailed off and stood. "Nevermind, it's not important. You should do what you think is best."

Harry frowned as the man made to leave. "Severus, wait," He followed the man towards the door. "What were you going to say?"

"I have papers," Snape said dismissively.

"They can wait," Harry growled in frustration. He reached up and grabbed the man's shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him. "Why shouldn't I go out with Charlie?!"

They stared at each other for a long moment, both glaring stubbornly. Suddenly, long-fingered hands reached up to cup Harry's face, drawing him into a firm, chaste kiss. The contact was innocent, an answer to the question and no more, but it set Harry's blood aflame. He leaned into the kiss, gripping the sides of Severus' robes as he inched closer to the firm body. The kiss softened minutely before the Potions Master pulled away enough to look into Harry's green gaze.

"Sorry," Snape breathed against his lips.

Harry smirked. "Yeah, I hated that," He whispered.

His fingers were still tangled in the man's robes, and he used the leverage to pull the man forward into a much less chaste kiss. He moaned lightly as a warm tongue wormed it's way past his parted lips. If the kiss before had been naught but an answer to Harry's question, then this was an answer to everything else. The universe exploded behind Harry's closed eyes, and he slid his hands up to wrap around a slim neck. He pulled Severus closer still as strong arms wrapped around his waist, the curves of their bodies meshing together like two pieces of a puzzle. This was the kiss he had been dreaming of since he'd first wondered if Snape had been flirting with him, the kiss that brought an end to nervous wondering and palpable tension. When they pulled away again, Harry couldn't stop a silly grin that practically split his face in two.

"S'good answer," He murmured.

Severus smirked. "I should hope so. I really do have papers to grade before tomorrow morning, though."

Harry cleared his throat and pulled back. "I actually do, too. Can we work together?"

"Can we?" Severus asked suggestively, pulling Harry forward again.

The Gryffindor chuckled softly. "I think so. As long as we're both willing to show a little restraint."

Snape smiled gently and pulled back as well. "Then I shall see you in my office in a few moments. Perhaps we might even discuss where things go from here."

Harry, still grinning, nodded, and let the man go. As he walked into his office to gather his grading, he glanced at the fire the House Elves had lit in the office's grate. A memory tickled at his mind, and he grabbed at it, drawing it forward. It was of the fight, when Severus had thrown that damning suicide letter into the fire. If possible, Harry's grin widened. They'd both been so stubborn, but even now… _especially_ now…he was grateful for having found and read that note.


	30. Chapter 30

Harry stood on the steps to the castle, waving off the students as was his duty as a professor. He had wanted to ride home on the train one last time, but had been given an acceptable ultimatum in place of this. Severus had agreed to go with him to visit the Weasley's, who wanted to help him celebrate a good first year, this evening. It would be the first time they told anyone about their relationship, and Harry was really looking forward to it. He was nervous as hell, too, but right now he was more excited than anything.

When the last of the carriages had vanished out of sight, Harry turned with the rest of the professors to go back inside. He happened to glance down as he moved up the steps, and there he saw a folded slip of parchment. Assuming it was some student's list of friend addresses for owling, he picked it up and unfolded it to see if he could discern the owner by the names on the page. He was surprised to find it blank. Flipping it over, he saw no writing on the back. He turned it over again only to discover that a familiar scrawl had begun to spread across the page.

 _Snoop._

 _I spelled this note so only you can find or read it. I know you're anxious about telling your family of the recent developments in our relationship. I have a surprise for you that might help to calm your mind. To receive this surprise, you must follow the clues in the notes I've hidden around the castle. Good luck, Mister Potter._

 _Cleverly yours,_

 _Severus Snape_

 _Your first clue is this:_

 _Amongst us you may walk, but upon us you cannot trod._

 _Through the looking glass you can see the work of God._

Harry smiled fondly at the note. In the month they'd been together, he'd come to find that his lover was every bit the romantic that he pretended he wasn't. Curious what the man could be up to, he hurried up the steps of the castle and through the Entrance Hall. He was stopped before he could reach the Grand Staircase.

"Harry, dear." The Gryffindor turned to see his smiling former Head of House. "Where are you off to?"

Harry blushed. "Nowhere special." He and Severus had agreed to wait until after they'd spent the summer away to expose their relationship to the rest of the staff. Even so, Minerva eyed him knowingly.

"Well, you're headed 'nowhere' awfully quickly," She crooned. "If you've nothing to be doing, would you like to join me for tea in my office? I've just ordered some fantastic chocolate biscuits from Switzerland."

"Uh," Harry struggled to find a reasonable excuse. "That sounds awfully tempting, Profes-Minerva, but I've still got some packing to do before I leave for the summer. I put it off, since I knew I wasn't going to be on the train, but I should really get it done. I've got to be at the Weasley's in just a few hours."

Harry could swear he saw a twinkle in the murky green eyes of the Deputy Headmistress. "Of course, Harry. But, we will have to have tea more often, now that you're one of us stuffy old professors. You run along."

Harry grinned with relief and gratitude. "You bet, ma'am. If I don't see you later, have a great summer."

"You, too, dear." She _definitely_ just winked at him before walking away.

Shrugging off the encounter (he would have to tell Severus that she almost certainly knew), Harry headed up the marble stairs to the Grand Staircase. His grin returned as he raced up the steps. He had a note to find.


End file.
